LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


REAVES  OF  HEALING. 


GATHERED   BY 

KATHARINE   PAINE   SUTTON. 


To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  Tree  of  Life 
which  is  in  the  Paradise  of  God. 

And  the  leaves  of  the  tree  were  for  the  healing  of  the  nations. 


BOSTON 

AMERICAN    UNITARIAN    ASSOCIATION 
1903 


Copyright,  1892, 
BY  AMERICAN  UNITARIAN  ASSOCIATION. 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


TO 

2Tfje  Helpers  ana  3§ealra 

FROM   WHOM    THESE    LEAVES    HAVE    BEEN    GATHERED, 

THIS   LITTLE    BOOK   IS   GRATEFULLY   INSCRIBED  } 

AND  TO 


Scrrofotttfl,  to  tfje  333earg  anto 


WITH   THE    EARNEST    HOPE    THAT    THEY    MAY  FIND    HEREIN 
NEW   INSPIRATION,   STRENGTH,  AND   PEACE. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I.  LIFE'S  VICTORIES n 

II.  DEATH'S  MINISTRY 61 

III.  IMMORTALITY 81 

IV.  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH  AND  IN  HEAVEN  123 
V.  ETERNAL  GOODNESS 143 

VI.  THE  FATHER'S  WILL 155 

VII.  ASPIRATION 167 

VIII.  THE  PERFECT  TRUST 183 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 


THE  compiler  remembers  in  her  work,  with  pleas- 
ure, the  interest  and  sympathy  of  many,  —  authors, 
publishes,  those  engaged  in  post-office  mission  ser- 
vice, —  and  of  some  who  have  gathered  the  ripe  fruits 
of  suffering  :  she  acknowledges,  with  others,  courtesies 
extended  by  Houghton,  Mifflin,  &  Co.  for  selections 
from  Emerson,  Lowell,  Longfellow,  Whittier,  Sill, 
Mrs.  Whitney,  Alice  Gary,  Lucy  Larcom,  Nora  Perry, 
and  others ;  by  Roberts  Brothers,  from  Drs.  Hedge 
and  Allen,  and  Messrs.  Hosmer,  Gannett,  Chadwick, 
Mrs.  Jackson,  Susan  Coolidge,  and  others  ;  by  George 
H.  Ellis,  from  Messrs.  Savage,  Merriam,  and  others ; 
by  Charles  H.  Kerr  &  Co.,  from  Messrs.  Blake,  Gan- 
nett, Jones,  and  Mrs.  Marean ;  by  the  Universalist 
Publishing  House,  from  Dr.  Chapin,  and  from  "  Voices 
of  the  Faith ; "  by  Dr.  J.  Straub,  from  Dr.  H.  W. 
Thomas ;  by  Fords,  Howard,  &  Hulbert,  from  Dr. 
H.  W.  Beecher  in  "  Comforting  Thoughts ; "  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  from  Dr.  J.  G.  Holland ; 
by  James  Pott  &  Co.,  from  Ugo  Bassi ;  by  Lee  and 
Shepard,  from  Dr.  Collyer;  by  Macmillan  &  Co.,  from 
Mr.  Winter  ;  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  from  Mr.  Bryant : 
and  not  least  she  acknowledges  in  the  undertaking 
the  sympathy  and  ever  ready  help  of  her  husband,  to 
whose  judgment  in  selecting  and  especially  in  arrang- 
ing these  Leaves  she  is  greatly  indebted. 

BROOKLYN,  CONN.,  March,  1892. 


LIFE'S  VICTORIES. 


LEAVES   OF   HEALING. 


LIFE'S  VICTORIES. 

THANKS  be  to  God  who  giveth  us  the  victory!  — 
i  COR.  xv.  57. 

HE  hath  torn,  and  he  will  heal  us ;  he  hath  smitten, 
and  he  will  bind  us  up.  After  two  days  will  he  revive 
us ;  on  the  third  day  he  will  raise  us  up,  and  we  shall 
live  before  him.  —  HOSEA  vi.  I,  2. 


"11 7  HAT  shall  we  call  the  real  things,  by  and  by, 
*  when  the  vision  shall  have  had  divine  anoint- 
ing,—  when  we  shall  name  things  right?  —  our 
little  victories,  our  successes,  our  joys  which 
were  hardly  large  enough  to  be  consecrated  ; 
the  lessons  from  which  at  first  we  shrank  and 
called  them  sorrows,  or  even  calamities,  but 
which  carried  us  along  toward  larger  fellowship 
and  quicker  contact  with  the  things  that  abide? 
I  know  not;  but  this  I  know,  that  deepening 


12  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

experience  greatly  reverses  some  of  the  decisions 
which  we  made  earlier  on  the  way.  And  so  I  love 
to  think  we  shall  one  day  be  able  to  spell  out 
some  grand  words  with  the  letters  we  are  learn- 
ing with  such  painful  labor  now ! 

STEPHEN  H.  CAMP. 


teachers  in  God's  great  school  are  many. 
Joy  and  sorrow,  love  and  loss,  daily  work, 
household  tenderness,  health,  sickness,  strength, 
helplessness,  —  one  by  one  they  come,  solemn 
figures,  some  with  radiant  faces,  some  veiled  and 
shrouded.  Each  speaks  its  word  of  command : 
"  Be  glad,"  "  Be  patient,"  "  Be  faithful,"  "  Strive," 
"  Lie  still  and  wait."  Often  we  break  in  upon 
the  lesson  with  an  importunate  demand,  "  Show 
me  the  end  ! "  But  each  teacher,  grave  and  tender, 
says  only,  "Do  this  that  I  bid  thee."  The  full 
answer  may  be  a  long  time  in  coming.  And  yet, 
all  the  time,  God  is  so  near  !  For  the  present 
want  we  may  always  find  Him  sufficient.  .  .  .  Go 
forth  to  work,  to  serve,  to  love  !  This  little  life 
passes  quickly  away.  Its  shadows  and  sorrows 
are  for  a  moment;  its  virtues,  its  victory,  its 

peace,  are  of  the  eternal. 

GEORGE  S.  MERRIAM. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  13 

/T"rHE  human  soul  is  purified  and  exalted  by 
A  trial  and  grief.  Life  itself  has  a  new  charm 
for  him  who  has  trodden  its  depths  as  well  as 
its  heights.  The  keenness  of  our  suffering  in- 
creases the  intensity  of  our  joy.  Yes,  there  is  a 
meaning  in  tears,  a  discipline  in  darkness,  and 
our  griefs  are  our  glory.  Therefore,  when  your 
dearest  hopes  are  disappointed,  when  your  faith 
in  man  is  tried  by  bitterest  ingratitude,  or  you 
are  cast  upon  the  bed  of  sickness,  oh,  do  not 
despair !  for  these  are  the  divine  processes  by 
which  your  nobler  self  is  developed,  by  which 
the  crude  bullion  of  your  nature,  purified  in  the 
flames  of  tribulation,  is  freshly  minted  with  the 
image  and  superscription  of  a  perfect  manhood. 

CHARLES  W.  WENDTE. 


A  S  I  recall  the  personal  history  of  those  I  know, 
•*"*•  I  see  how  universal  is  disappointment.  But 
it  has  not  made  you  more  melancholy  and  less 
manly  men ;  life  is  not  thereby  the  less  a  bless- 
ing and  the  more  a  load.  With  no  sorrows  you 
would  be  more  sorrowful.  For  all  the  sorrows 
that  man  has  faithfully  contended  with  he  shall 
sail  into  port  deeper  fraught  with  manliness.  The 
wife  and  mother  at  thirty  years  of  age  imprisoned 


14  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

in  her  chair,  her  hands  all  impotent  to  wipe  a  tear 
away,  does  not  suffer  for  nothing.  She  has  there- 
by been  taught  to  taste  the  fruits  of  sweeter  com- 
munion with  God.  These  disappointments  are 
rounds  in  the  ladder  whereby  we  climb  to  heaven. 
Sorrow  takes  you  on  her  wings  and  bears  you  up 
higher  than  before,  to  a  new  communion  with 
your  Father,  that  you  may  receive  great  inspira- 
tion from  him.  THEODORE  PARKER. 


GOD'S  angels  come  to  us  disguised; 
Sorrow  and  sickness,  poverty  and  death, 
One  after  other  lift  their  frowning  masks, 
And  we  behold  the  seraph's  face  beneath, 
All  radiant  with  the  glory  and  the  calm 
Of  having  looked  upon  the  front  of  God. 
With  every  anguish  of  our  earthly  part 
The  spirit's  sight  grows  clearer :  this  was  meant 
When  Jesus  touched  the  blind  man's  lids  with  clay. 
JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


IS  sorrow  builds  the  shining  ladder  up, 

Whose  golden  rounds  are  our  calamities, 
Whereon  our  firm  feet  planting,  nearer  God 
The  spirit  climbs,  and  hath  its  eyes  unsealed. 

JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  15 


THE   DARK   ANGEL. 

each  affliction,  whether  light  or  grave, 
^     God's  messenger  sent  down  to  thee.     Do  thou 
With  courtesy  receive  him :  rise  and  bow ; 
And  ere  his  shadow  pass  thy  threshold,  crave 
Permission  first  his  heavenly  feet  to  lave ; 
Then  lay  before  him  all  thou  hast ;  allow 
No  cloud  of  passion  to  usurp  thy  brow 
Or  mar  thy  hospitality ;  no  wave 
Of  mortal  tumult  to  obliterate 
Thy  soul's  marmoreal  calmness.     Grief  should  be 
Like  joy,  majestic,  equable,  sedate, 
Confirming,  cleansing,  raising,  making  free ; 
Strong  to  consume  small  troubles ;  to  commend 
Great  thoughts,  grave  thoughts,  thoughts  lasting  to 
the  end. 

AUBREY  DE  VERB. 


"\T  7  HAT  difference  did  it  make  to  Christ,  whether 
in  the  wilderness  he  did  fierce  battle  with 
temptation ;  or  sat  on  the  green  slope  to  teach 
the  people  and  send  them  home  as  if  God  had 
dropped  upon  their  hearts  amid  the  shades  of 
evening ;  whether  he  stood  over  the  corpse,  and 
looking  on  the  dark  eyes,  said,  "  Let  there  be 
light,"  and  the  curtain  of  the.  shadow  of  death 
drew  up ;  or  saw  the  angel  of  duty  approach  him- 


1 6  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

self  in  the  dress  of  the  grave,  and  on  the  mourn- 
ful "Come  away,"  tendered  his  hand  and  was 
meekly  led ;  whether  his  walk  was  over  strewn 
flowers,  or  beneath  the  cross  too  heavy  to  be 
borne,  amid  the  cries  of  "  Hosanna,"  or  the  mur 
derous  shout?  The  difference  was  all  of  pain; 
none  was  there  of  conscience,  of  trust,  of  power, 
of  love.  Let  there  be  a  conscious  affiliation  with 
God ;  and  as  he  pervadeth  all  things,  a  unity  is 
imparted  to  life,  and  a  stability  to  the  mind,  which 
put  character  and  will  above  the  reach  of  circum- 
stance ;  a  current  of  pure  and  strong  affections, 
fed  by  the  fount  of  bliss,  pours  from  hidden  and 
sunlit  heights,  and  winds  through  the  open  plains 
and  dark  ravines  of  life,  till  its  murmurs  fall  into 
the  everlasting  deep.  JAMES  MARTINEAU. 

SPIKENARD. 

WHAT  was  the  box  of  spikenard,  Lord, 
Which  Mary  brought,  and  at  thy  feet 
Broke,  and  the  ointment  on  thee  poured, 
The  while  thou  sat'st  with  them  at  meat  ? 

The  house  with  the  sweet  smell  was  filled, 
And  all  the  chambers  of  the  years 
Are  fragrant  with  those  odors  spilled, 
And  tender  with  that  dew  of  tears. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES,  17 

O  Lord,  do  I  not  likewise  bring 
Before  thee,  as  I  lowly  kneel, 
My  costly  grief,  —  that  hidden  thing,  — 
And  for  thee  only  break  the  seal  ? 

Thou  seest,  human  as  thou  art, 
Yet  glorified  in  God  again, 
The  broken  box,  —  a  human  heart ; 
The  precious  oil,  —  its  chrism  of  pain  ! 

MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 


TF  you  say,  "  I  am  hedged  about,  I  can  do  noth- 
ing;  I  fain  would  help  but  I  cannot,"  —  your 
very  longing  is  a  help.  "They  also  serve  who 
only  stand  and  wait."  It  is  never  true  that  we 
are  not  helpers ;  where  the  fervent  heart  is,  there 
is  the  servant  of  God,  and  unto  him  comes  ever 
with  the  work  the  reward.  He  is  still  and  strong 
in  God,  because  he  is  a  co-worker  with  God,  and 
his  life  holds  for  itself  a  secret  which  is  not  known 
to  another,  —  he  has  come  in  his  very  work  to  the 
rest  that  remaineth.  ROBERT  COLLYER. 


OD  has  placed  no  being  in  a  barren  soil ;  no 
one  where  he  may  not  find  the  elements  of 
immortal  life ;  none  where  through  perfect  fidelity 
to  its  condition,  its  roots  may  not  reach  out  to 


1 8  LEAVES  OF  HE  AUNG. 

embrace  the  earth,  and  spread  out  branches  and 
leaves  to  heal  and  overshadow  it.  Thus  Charlotte 
Bronte's  life  was  like  an  acorn  dropped  in  the  cleft 
of  a  rock  —  a  condition  as  hard  as  infelicity  could 
make  it.  For  a  time  its  lateral  growth  was  choked 
by  its  grim  surroundings;  but  at  last  its  roots 
struck  down  so  deep  that  they  underran  the  rock, 
and  then  reached  outward  to  enrich  themselves 
from  the  treasures  of  the  whole  earth.  And  thus 
it  may  be  with  every  life,  if  it  is  perfectly  faithful 
and  true  to  the  condition  in  which  it  is  placed. 
It  may  grow  outward  into  the  possession  of  all 
that  remains  for  the  children  of  God. 

NAHOR  AUGUSTUS  STAPLES. 

Y\  7"E  seek  to  be  delivered  from  pain  and  sorrow, 
*  '  and  God  designs  to  deliver  us.  Vainly  we 
seek,  but  he  accomplishes.  Our  end  is  not  mis- 
taken, but  we  mistake  the  means.  We  seek  deliv- 
erance by  taking  away;  he  gives  deliverance  by 
adding :  — 

"  'T  is  life  of  which  our  nerves  are  scant, 
More  life,  and  fuller,  that  we  want." 

JAMES  HINTON. 

TT  is  a  wonderful  story.  Job  and  his  friends  spec- 
*•  ulate  all  about  the  mystery,  and  their  conclu- 
sions from  their  premises  are  entirely  correct ;  but 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  19 

they  have  forgotten  to  take  in  the  separate  sov- 
ereign will  of  God,  as  working  with  a  great  purpose 
in  the  man's  life,  by  which  he  is  to  be  lifted  into 
a  grander  reach  of  insight  and  experience  than 
ever  he  had  before.  Job  said,  "  I  suffer ;  I  am  in 
darkness  and  disappointment  and  pain,  because  it 
is  fate."  Job's  friends  said,  "No,  you  suffer  be- 
cause you  have  sinned."  They  were  both  wrong 
and  all  wrong.  He  suffered  because  that  was  the 
divine  way  of  bringing  him  out  of  his  self-satisfied 
content ;  and  when,  through  suffering,  that  was 
done,  he  said,  "  I  have  heard  of  thee  with  mine 
ears,  but  now  mine  eye  seeth  thee."  There  is  a 
bird,  it  is  said,  that  will  never  learn  the  song  his 
master  will  have  him  sing,  while  his  cage  is  full  of 
light.  He  listens  and  learns  a  snatch  of  this,  a 
trill  of  that,  a  polyglot  of  all  the  songs  in  the 
grove,  but  never  a  separate  and  entire  melody  of 
his  own.  But  the  master  covers  his  cage,  —  makes 
the  way  all  dark  about  him ;  then  he  will  listen  to 
the  one  song  he  has  to  sing ;  and  try  and  try  and 
try  again,  until  at  last  his  heart  is  full  of  it.  Then, 
when  he  has  caught  the  melody,  the  cage  is  un- 
covered. When  there  is  light  on  the  song  there  is 
no  need  for  darkness  on  the  way. 

Friends,  if  I   had  never  gone  into  darkened 
rooms,  where  the  soul  stands  at  the  parting  of  the 


20  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

worlds ;  or  sat  down  beside  widows  and  little 
children,  when  the  desire  of  their  eyes  was  taken 
away  with  a  stroke ;  or  grasped  the  hands  of  strong 
men  when  all  they  had  toiled  for  was  gone,  — 
nothing  left  but  honor;  or  ministered  to  men 
mangled  on  the  battle-field  beyond  all  telling; 
and  heard  in  all  these  places  where  darkness  was 
on  the  way,  melodies,  melodies  that  I  never  heard 
among  the  commonplaces  of  prosperity,  —  I  could 
not  be  so  sure  as  I  am  that  God  often  darkens  the 
way  that  the  melody  may  grow  clear  and  entire  in 
the  soul. 

Then,  if  this  man  could  have  known,  —  as  he 
sat  there  in  the  ashes,  bruising  his  heart  on  this 
problem  of  Providence,  —  that  in  the  trouble  that 
had  come  upon  him  he  was  doing  what  one  man 
may  do  to  work  out  the  problem  for  the  world,  he 
might  again  have  taken  courage.  No  man  lives 
to  himself.  Job's  life  is  but  your  life  and  mine 
written  in  larger  text.  What  we  all  are  doing  as 
we  stand  in  our  lot,  steady  to  our  manliness  or  our 
womanliness  in  our  black  days,  is  to  tell  in  its 
measure  on  the  life  and  faith  of  every  good  man 
coming  after  us,  though  our  name  may  be  forgot- 
ten. ...  So  then,  though  we  may  not  know  what 
trials  wait  on  any  of  us,  we  can  believe  that,  as  the 
days  in  which  Job  wrestled  with  his  dark  maladies 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  21 

are  the  only  days  that  make  him  worth  remem- 
brance, and  but  for  which  his  name  had  never 
been  written  in  the  book  of  life,  so  the  days 
through  which  we  struggle,  finding  no  way,  but 
never  losing  the  light,  will  be  the  most  significant 
we  are  called  to  live.  ROBERT  COLLYER. 


compensations  of  calamity  are  made  ap- 
parent  to  the  understanding  also,  after  long 
intervals  of  time.  A  fever,  a  mutilation,  a  cruel 
disappointment,  a  loss  of  wealth,  a  loss  of  friends, 
seems  at  the  moment  unpaid  loss  and  unpayable. 
But  the  sure  years  reveal  the  deep  remedial  force 
that  underlies  all  facts.  The  death  of  a  dear 
friend,  wife,  brother,  lover,  which  seemed  nothing 
but  privation,  somewhat  later  assumes  the  aspect 
of  a  guide  or  genius  ;  and  the  man  or  woman  who 
would  have  remained  a  sunny  garden-flower,  with 
no  room  for  its  roots  and  too  much  sunshine  for 
its  head,  by  the  falling  of  the  walls  and  the  neglect 
of  the  gardener  is  made  the  banian  of  the  forest, 
yielding  shade  and  iruit  to  wide  neighborhoods  of 
men.  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

~P\ID  not  Jesus  know,  and  might  he  not  speak  of 

the  way  to  the  Father?     Surely  if  we  still 

take  offence  at  God  for  his  yoke  or  for  his  refusals, 


22  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

for  burdens  or  for  disappointments,  it  is  only  be- 
cause we  separate  ourselves  from  the  life  of  the 
Son  of  Man,  who  knew  them  all  and  found  no 
offence  in  them.  Might,  think  we,  a  Son  of  God 
have  taken  offence  at  the  Father  for  treatment  so 
little  to  be  expected,  — a  lowly  and  suffering  place, 
personal  humiliations  and  contempt,  wounded 
hopes,  fruitless  labors,  agonies  of  lonely  apprehen- 
sion, the  desertion  of  followers,  public  rejection 
and  mock  homage,  jeers,  insults,  and  a  death  of 
shame  ?  If  he  took  none,  who  can  be  justified  in 
taking  any  ?  We  do  not  mean  that  in  his  life  were 
all  circumstantial  experiences  in  which  each  may 
find  his  own,  but  that  his  life  was  the  perfect  way 
of  life,  that  he  knew  every  class  of  spiritual  diffi- 
culty, every  kind  of  natural  cloud  floating  between 
God  and  man ;  by  meeting  and  dissolving  which 
he  earned  a  Deliverer's  right  to  say  to  all  Human- 
ity, in  the  name  of  a  representative  Child  of  the 
Heavenly  Father :  "  Gome  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. 
Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of  me,  and  ye 
shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls ;  for  my  yoke  is  easy 
and  my  burden  is  light." 

JOHN  HAMILTON  THOM. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  23 

OEEING  that  many  glory  after  the  flesh,  I  will 
^  glory  also.  And  if  I  needs  must  glory,  I  will 
glory  of  the  things  which  concern  mine  infirmities. 
Not  that  I  speak  in  respect  of  want :  for  I  have 
learned  in  whatsoever  state  I  am,  therein  to  be 
content.  I  know  how  to  be  abased  and  I  know 
also  how  to  abound :  in  everything  and  in  all 
things  have  I  learned  the  secret  both  to  be  filled 
and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound  and  to  be  in 
want.  I  can  do  all  things  in  him  that  strength- 
eneth  me.  For  he  hath  said  unto  me,  My  grace  is 
sufficient  for  thee  :  for  my  power  is  made  perfect 
in  weakness.  Most  gladly  therefore  will  I  rather 
glory  in  my  weaknesses  that  the  strength  of  Christ 
may  rest  upon  me.  Wherefore  I  take  pleasure  in 
weaknesses,  in  injuries,  in  necessities,  in  persecu- 
tions, in  distresses,  for  Christ's  sake ;  for  when  I 
am  weak,  then  am  I  strong.  And  not  only  so,  but 
let  us  also  rejoice  in  our  tribulations :  knowing 
that  tribulation  worketh  patience ;  and  patience 
probation ;  and  probation  hope ;  and  hope  putteth 
not  to  shame ;  because  the  love  of  God  hath  been 
shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  through  the  Holy  Spirit 
which  was  given  unto  us. 

PAUL. 


24  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

TNSTEAD  of  regarding  afflictions  as  judgments 
*•  and  tokens  of  God's  displeasure,  Paul,  in  the 
light  of  Christianity,  deems  them  as  means  of 
greater  attainments  in  the  true  life  of  the  soul. 
He  proceeds  to  point  out  the  sequence  of  Christian 
experiences,  and  to  rejoice  in  trials  instead  of 
being  cast  down  by  them.  The  order  is,  trial, 
patience,  proof,  hope.  Trials  properly  borne  cul- 
tivate patience ;  patience  affords  us  proof  of  what 
we  really  are,  —  Robinson  translates  the  word  ren- 
dered probation  by  proof,  approval,  tried  integrity, 
—  and  this  proof  becomes  the  basis  of  our  reason- 
able hopes  for  the  time  to  come,  such  as  will  not 
fail  or  disappoint  us ;  for  the  exercise  of  these 
affections  and  virtues  is  re- enforced  by  a  higher 
power,  by  communications  from  the  love  and  holy 
spirit  of  God  himself.  Such  are  the  glorious  golden 
links  of  the  chain  which  draw  up  the  soul  heaven- 
ward, —  trial,  patience,  proof,  hope,  possession ; 
but  they  are  all  melted  and  welded  in  the  love  of 
God  to  us,  and  are  made  pure  by  his  spirit. 

ABIEL  ABBOT  LIVERMORE. 

BEHIND   AND   BEFORE. 
E  thing  I  do;  the  things  behind  forgetting, 
And  reaching  forward  to  the  things  before, 
Unto  the  goal,  the  prize  of  God's  high  calling, 
Onward  I  press," —  said  that  great  soul  of  yore. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  2$ 

And  in  the  heart  like  strains  of  martial  music, 
Echo  the  words  of  courage,  trust,  and  cheer, 
The  while  we  stand,  half  hoping,  half  regretting, 
Between  the  coming  and  the  parting  year. 

Behind  are  joys,  fair  hopes  that  found  fulfilment, 
Sweet  human  fellowships,  and  many  a  gain; 
Unanswered  prayers,  burdens  of  loss  and  sorrow, 
Faces  that  look  no  more  in  ours  again. 

Before  are  opportunity  and  promise, 
Fairer  fulfilments  than  the  past  could  know ; 
New  growths  of  soul,  new  leadings  of  the  Spirit, 
And  all  the  glad  surprises  God  will  show. 

All  we  have  done,  or  nobly  failed  in  doing, 
All  we  have  been,  or  bravely  striven  to  be, 
Counts  for  our  gain,  within  us  still  surviving, 
As  power  and  larger  possibility. 

All,  all  shall  count ;  the  mingled  joy  and  sorrow 
To  force  of  finer  being  rise  at  last ; 
From  the  crude  ores  in  trial's  furnace  smelted 
The  image  of  the  perfect  life  is  cast. 

"  Onward  I  press,  the  things  behind  forgetting 
And  reaching  forward  to  the  things  before  :  " 
Ring  the  brave  words  like  strains  of  martial  music, 
As  we  pass  through  the  New  Year's  open  door. 

FBEDERICK  L.  HOSMER. 


26  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

BUT  count  the  gains 
Which  far  the  seeming  loss  outweigh ; 
Friendships  built  firm  'gainst  flood  and  wind 
On  rock-foundations  of  the  mind  ; 
Knowledge,  instead  of  scheming  hope ; 
For  wild  adventure,  settled  scope  ; 
Talents  from  surface-ore  profuse, 
Tempered  and  edged  to  tools  for  use  ; 
Judgment,  for  passion's  headlong  whirls ; 
Old  sorrows  crystalled  into  pearls ; 
Losses  by  patience  turned  to  gains, 
Possessions  now,  that  once  were  pains ; 
Joy's  blossom  gone,  as  go  it  must, 
To  ripen  seeds  of  faith  and  trust. 
I  have  not  spilt  one  drop  of  joy 
Poured  in  the  senses  of  the  boy, 
Nor  Nature  fails  my  walks  to  bless 
With  all  her  golden  inwardness ; 
And  as  blind  nestlings,  unafraid, 
Stretch  up  wide-mouthed  to  every  shade 
By  which  their  downy  dream  is  stirred, 
Taking  it  for  the  mother-bird, 
So  when  God's  shadow,  which  is  light, 
Unheralded,  by  day  or  night, 
My  wakening  instincts  falls  across, 
Silent  as  sunbeams  over  moss, 
In  my  heart's  nest  unconscious  things 
Stir  with  a  helpless  sense  of  wings, 
Lift  themselves  up,  and  tremble  long 
With  premonitions  sweet  of  song. 

JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


LIFE'S  VICTORIES.  2/ 

TF  you  ask  me  for  an  assurance  that  those  vast 
"  powers,  those  sublime  realities,  which  we  name 
God,  make  personal  account  of  you,  so  that  your 
own  safety  is  somehow  cared  for  and  not  lost  as 
a  disregarded  atom  among  mightier  things,  again 
I  say,  no  man  can  prove  it  for  you,  but  you  may 
slowly  and  surely  come  to  it  for  yourself.  As  you 
set  yourself  in  earnest  to  the  business  of*  right  living, 
you  will  more  and  more  feel  what  a  sublime  thing 
life  is,  how  divine  is  the  universe  in  which  you  are 
a  part ;  and  with  that  sense  of  the  blessedness  of 
life  there  comes  to  every  true  soul  a  most  humble, 
grateful  sense  of  something  given.  "  Not  of  my- 
self, it  is  the  gift  of  God  !  "  is  its  instinctive,  deep- 
est word  about  whatever  highest  achievement  or 
sweetest  enjoyment  comes  to  it. 

Train  yourself  to  find  the  good  in  what  seems 
evil,  to  make  of  disaster  an  opportunity  for  your 
courage,  to  master  suffering  by  patience,  to  learn 
from  sorrow,  sympathy.  So  will  there  grow  upon 
you  an  assurance  that  through  all  forms  of  what 
seems  evil  there  is  working  a  higher  good.  .  .  . 
Here  too  the  word  of  Jesus  stands  always  true,  — 
"  He  that  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it." 

And  finally,  be  patient.  Upon  the  loyal  soul 
there  dawn  from  time  to  time  more  glorious  morn- 


28  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

ings  than  it  ever  saw  before.  You  may  come  to 
learn  that  life  contains  no  more  wonderful  and 
blessed  thing  than  God's  surprises.  A  man  strug- 
gles bravely  and  unsuccessfully  with  an  evil  habit 
and  suddenly  a  change  of  circumstances  lifts  him 
out  of  its  reach.  A  life  of  faithful  service  is  lonely 
and  hungry  for  human  love,  and  some  day  a  great 
and  sacred  friendship  comes  to  it.  A  soul  walks 
for  years  the  patient  path  of  duty,  vainly  long- 
ing for  a  sense  of  the  living  God,  and  in  some 
unexpectant  hour  the  Divine  Presence  shines  full 
upon  it. 

Nor  is  it  alone  by  sudden  surprises  that  we 
come  to  know  how  "  God's  gifts  put  man's  best 
dreams  to  shame."  To  steady  fidelity  come 
steady  growth  and  enlarging  vision,  as  surely  as 
the  harvest  follows  the  sowing.  There  are  better 
things  in  store  for  you  than  you  know.  In  the 
calendar  of  your  future  there  are  days  marked  for 
angelic  visits.  The  angels  may  come  disguised, 
but  come  they  surely  will.  Yours  be  it  to  have 
for  them  an  open  door,  and  a  house  where  amid 
firmly  knit  habits  and  pure  affections  they  shall 

find  a  home. 

GEORGE  S.  MERRIAM. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  29 

SOME  times  there  be,  when  thoughts  of  unseen 
things 

Press  in  upon  me,  and  all  earthly  thoughts 
Do  hide  themselves,  and  I  am  lifted  up 
Above  the  cares  and  labors  of  this  world, 
Into  that  realm  where  all  things  are  attuned 
And  set  to  one  grand  harmony  divine. 
And  there,  while  listening  to  its  flow,  I  gain 
New  strength,  and  feel  new  courage  for  the  work 
That  lies  before  me,  and  begin  anew 
Life's  common  duties,  —  no  longer  common, 
But  part  of  that  grand  anthem,  which  when  heard 
Aright  and  heard  complete,  such  music  gives 
As  ne'er  before  to  mortal  ear  was  given. 

EVERETT  O.  WOOD. 


I  COUNT  this  thing  to  be  grandly  true 
That  a  noble  deed  is  a  step  toward  God, 
Lifting  the  soul  from  the  common  clod 
To  a  purer  air  and  a  broader  view. 

We  rise  by  the  things  that  are  under  our  feet ; 
By  what  we  have  mastered  of  good  and  gain  ; 
By  the  pride  deposed  and  the  passion  slain, 
And  the  vanquished  ills  that  we  hourly  meet. 

Heaven  is  not  reached  at  a  single  bound ; 
But  we  build  the  ladder  by  which  we  rise 
From  the  lowly  earth  to  the  vaulted  skies, 
And  we  mount  to  its  summit,  round  by  round. 

J.  G.  HOLLAND. 


30  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

I  HELD  it  truth  with  him  who  sings 
To  one  clear  harp  of  divers  tones, 
That  men  may  rise  on  stepping-stones 
Of  their  dead  selves  to  higher  things. 

ALFRED  TENNYSON. 

THE   BATTLE   OF  GOD. 

SO  strive,  so  rule,  Almighty  Lord  of  all ! 
So  greatly  win  the  planet-victory ! 
So  gloriously  what  baffles  bring  in  thrall ! 
So  strongly  work,  Earth's  final  jubilee 
With  gladness  and  with  singing  to  install ! 

And  man  may  work  with  the  great  God  :  yea,  ours 
This  privilege,  —  all  others  how  beyond  ! 
To  tend  the  great  Man-root  until  it  flowers ; 
To  scorn  with  godly  laughter  when  Despond 
Tamely  before  a  hoary  hindrance  cowers  ; 

Effectually  the  planet  to  subdue, 
And  break  old  savagehood  in  claw  and  tusk  ; 
That  noble  end  to  trust  in  and  pursue 
Which  under  Nature's  half-expressive  husk 
Lies  ever  from  the  base  conceal'd  from  view  ; 

To  draw  our  fellows  up,  as  with  a  cord 
Of  love,  unto  their  high-appointed  place, 
Till,  from  our  state  barbaric  and  abhorr'd, 
We  do  arise  unto  a  royal  race  ; 
To  be  the  blest  companions  of  the  Lord. 

HENRY  SEPTIMUS  BUTTON. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  3! 


CHRIST. 

IN  Christ  I  feel  the  heart  of  God 
Throbbing  from  heaven  through  earth ; 
Life  stirs  again  within  the  clod, 
Renewed  in  beauteous  birth. 
The  soul  springs  up,  a  flower  of  prayer, 
Breathing  his  breath  out  on  the  air. 

In  Christ  I  touch  the  hand  of  God; 
From  his  pure  height  reached  down, 
By  blessed  ways  before  untrod, 
To  lift  us  to  our  crown ; 
Victory  that  only  perfect  is 
Through  loving  sacrifice,  like  his. 

Holding  his  hand,  my  steadied  feet 

May  walk  the  air,  the  seas  ; 

On  life  and  death  his  smile  falls  sweet  — 

Lights  up  all  mysteries; 

Strange*  nor  exile  can  I  be 

In  new  worlds  where  he  leadeth  me. 

LUCY"  LARCOM. 


TESUS  laid  his  hands  upon  a  multitude  of 
J  things,  —  upon  the  sick,  the  afflicted,  the 
hungry,  the  dying ;  upon  little  children,  upon  the 
bread  he  broke  in  the  wilderness;  upon  sorrow 
and  upon  pain ;  and  lastly,  he  laid  them  upon 


32  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

the  cross  ;  and  wherever  he  laid  his  hands  he  left 
a  sweetness  and  a  fragrance  which  wisdom  can 
perceive,  and  wisdom  alone  can  know. 

HENRY  EDWARD  MANNING. 

\\  7"E  can  hardly  learn  tenderness  and  humility 
*         enough  except  by  suffering. 

GEORGE  ELIOT. 

TTUMAN    character  is  never  found    "to   enter 
into  its  glory,"  except  through  the  ordeal  of 
affliction.  JAMES  MARTINEAU. 


is  in  man  a  higher  than  happiness  ;  he 
•*•  can  do  without  happiness,  and  find  in  stead 
thereof  —  Blessedness  !  Was  it  not  to  preach 
forth  this  same  Higher  that  sages  and  martyrs,  the 
poet  and  the  priest,  in  all  times  have  spoken  and 
suffered,  —  bearing  testimony,  tnrough  life  and 
death,  of  the  Godlike  that  is  in  man,  and  how  in 
the  Godlike  only  has  he  strength  and  freedom  ? 

THOMAS  CARLYLE. 

TTE  who  planted  the  germs  of  Pity  in  the  hu- 
•*•    man  heart  must  have  meant  to  leave  the  root 

of  Sorrow  in  human  life. 

JAMES  MARTINEAU. 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  33 

TT  is  our  Maker's  care  that  plants  alike  thorns 
and  flowers  in  our  path.     To  reject  his  flowers 
would  be  none  the  less  unfilial  than  to  repine  at 
his  thorns.  FRANCES  POWER  COBBE. 


T  HAVE  been  a  great  deal  happier  since  I  have 
given  up  thinking  about  what  is  easy  and  pleas- 
ant, and  being  discontented  because  I  could  not 
have  my  own  will.  Our  life  is  determined  for  us ; 
and  it  makes  the  mind  very  free  when  we  give  up 
wishing,  and  only  think  of  bearing  what  is  laid  upon 
us,  and  doing  what  is  given  us  to  do. 

GEORGE  ELIOT. 

"\7"OU  are  wrong  in  thinking  of  peace  as  some- 
A  thing  which  is  to  come  only  in  a  future  life. 
There  is  no  reason  for  expecting  it  hereafter  but 
its  having  begun  now.  Every  true  surrender  of 
selfish  principles  to  God  and  the  inward  monitor 
is  the  beginning  of  heaven  and  heaven's  peace. 
The  best  proof  of  a  heaven  to  come  is  its  dawning 
in  us  now.  We  are  blinded  by  common  errors  to 
the  degree  of  celestial  good  which  is  to  be  found 
on  earth.  I  do  not  tell  you  to  labor  for  it ;  for  a 
selfish  impatience  may  remove  it  from  us.  I 
would  say,  accept  your  inward  and  outward  trials 
3 


34  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

as  appointed  by  the  Friend  of  your  soul  for  its 
progress  and  perfection,  and  use  them  for  this 
end,  not  doubtingly  or  impetuously,  but  confid- 
ingly ;  and  just  as  fast  as  the  power  of  Christian 
virtue  grows  within  you,  peace  and  heaven  will 
come,  unless,  for  some  greater  good,  present  hap- 
piness be  obstructed  by  physical  causes.  Be  of 
good  cheer.  Be  not  weary  in  well  doing.  Be  not 
anxious.  WILLIAM  ELLERY  CHANNING. 


is  the  peace  of  surrendered  as  well  as 
of  fulfilled  hopes  ;  the  peace  not  of  satisfied 
but  of  extinguished  longings  ;  the  peace  not  of  the 
happy  love  and  the  secure  fireside,  but  of  unmur- 
muring and  accepted  loneliness  ;  the  peace  not  of 
the  heart  which  lives  in  joyful  serenity  afar  from 
trouble  and  from  strife,  but  of  the  heart  where 
conflicts  are  over  and  where  hopes  are  buried; 
not  the  peace  which  brooded  over  Eden,  but  that 

which  crowned  Gethsemane. 

WILLIAM  R.  GREG. 


ON   HIS   BLINDNESS. 

WHEN  I  consider  how  my  light  is  spent 
Ere  half  my  days,  in  this   dark  world  and 

wide, 
And  that  one  talent  which  is  death  to  hide, 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  35 

Lodged  with  me  useless,  though  my  soul  more  bent 

To  serve  therewith  my  Maker,  and  present 

My  true  account,  lest  he  returning  chide  ; 

"  Doth  God  exact  day-labor,  light  denied  ?  " 

I  fondly  ask :  but  Patience  to  prevent 

That  murmur,  soon  replies,  "  God  doth  not  need 

Either  man's  work  or  his  own  gifts ;  who  best 

Bear  his  mild  yoke,  they  serve  him  best ;  his  .state 

Is  kingly ;  thousands  at  his  bidding  speed, 

And  post  o'er  land  and  ocean  without  rest ; 

They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait." 

JOHN  MILTON. 


T  IFE  is  a  short  day's  climbing ;  mists  and  rain 
•*-'  envelop  us ;  often  we  toil  up  expecting  small 
returns,  doubting  at  times  the  existence  of  moun- 
tain ranges.  Then  suddenly  we  are  overtaken 
with  a  glad  surprise.  A  halt,  an  unexpected  turn, 
and  a  revelation  breaks  upon  us,  and  then  our 
years  stand  around  draped  in  white,  capped  with 
Alpine  splendors,  and  the  whiteness  of  their  peaks 
is  not  miracle  or  dogma,  not  creed,  sect,  or  text, 
not  the  hope  of  heaven  or  the  fear  of  hell,  but  the 
celestial  commonplaces  of  earthly  duties  and  hu- 
man privileges,  —  a  mother's  love,  a  father's  manly 
care,  the  love  of  home  and  children,  the  heart  ties, 
soft  as  silk  but  strong  as  iron,  that  either  bind  us 
to  God,  or  mangle  and  cripple  us,  as  we  heed  or 


36  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

defy  them.  These  bring  us  the  "  peace  of  God 
which  passeth  all  understanding,"  and  garrison  our 
hearts  and  our  thoughts  in  the  ideal,  the  Christ 

Jesus  of  the  soul. 

JENKIN  LLOYD  JONES. 


rFvHE  actual  relief  of  misery  is  an  inferior  boon 
A  to  that  revelation  of  "  the  law  of  the  spirit  of 
life "  which  it  begins  to  make  discernible.  "  It 
would  almost  seem  as  if  the  withdrawal  of  all  hope 
tended,  in  the  beneficent  ways  of  Providence,  to 
quiet  afflicted  nature,  and  to  bring  about  a  com- 
posure and  calm  of  the  soul,  which  is  proof  against 
many  keen  temptations."  In  many  of  those  who 
receive  it  so  it  is,  no  doubt,  the  reflex  of  a  very 
positive  belief  in  an  everlasting  life  of  conscious 
and  increasing  joy,  to  which  they  may  enter  only 
through  the  gateway  of  pain ;  but  in  many  others 
it  seems  to  be  the  simple  natural  effect  of  that 
discipline  of  "  strength  and  purification "  which 
is  the  profounder  meaning  of  pain,  so  that  they 
are  already,  without  knowing  it,  entered  into 
the  eternal  life,  —  nay,  as  in  some  cases  known 
to  us,  have  felt  a  certain  exaltation  of  spirit  in 
the  conscious  sense  that  they  have  been  thus 
singled  out  by  the  Lord  of  Life,  as  those  worthy, 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  37 

like  their   Master,  to  be  made  "perfect  through 
suffering." 

JOSEPH  HENRY  ALLEN. 


went  down  together  to  the  door, 
*-     Which  when  the  curate  opened,  lo!  without 
The  beggar  sat ;  and  he  saluted  him: 
When  lo  !  the  dazzled  curate  staggered  back, 
For  dread  effulgence  from  the  beggar's  eyes 
-  '-^Smote  him,  and  from  the  crippled  limbs  shot  forth 
Terrible  lights,  as  pure  long  blades  of  fire. 

And,  when  the  beggar  looked  on  him, 
He  said,  "  If  I  offend  not,  pray  you  tell 
Who  and  what  are  you  :  —  I  behold  a  face 
Marred  with  old  age,  sickness  and  poverty,  — 
A  cripple  with  a  staff,  who  long  hath  sat 
Begging,  and  ofttimes  moaning,  in  the  porch, 
For  pain  and  for  the  wind's  inclemency :  — 
What  are  you  ?  "     Then  the  beggar  made  reply, 

..."  My  dwelling  place 
Was  far  remote  in  heaven ; 
There  I  did  wait ;  and  oft,  at  work,  I  sang, 
'  To  minister  !  oh,  joy,  to  minister ! ' 
And,  it  being  known,  a  message  came  to  me  : 
'Whether  is  best,  .  .  . 
To  minister  to  others,  or  that  they 
Should  minister  to  thee  ? '     Then  on  my  face, 
Low  lying,  I  made  answer :  '  It  is  best, 
Most  High,  to  minister;'  and  thus  came  back 
The  answer :  '  Choose  not  for  thyself  the  best ; 


38  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Go  down,  and,  lo !  my  poor  shall  minister, 
Out  of  their  poverty,  to  thee ;  shall  learn 
Compassion  by  thy  frailty  ;  and  shall  oft 
Turn  back,  when  speeding  home  from  work,  to  help 
Thee,  weak  and  crippled,  home.     My  little  ones, 
Thou  shalt  importune  for  their  slender  mite, 
And  pray,  and  move  them  that  they  give  it  up 
For  love  of  me.' " 

The  curate  answered  him, 
"  Art  thou  content,  O  great  one  from  afar  ?  " 
"  I  am.     Behold  !     I  stand  not  all  alone, 
That  I  should  think  to  do  a  perfect  work. 
I  may  not  wish  to  give ;  for  I  have  heard 
'T  is  best  for  me  that  I  receive.     For  me, 
God  is  the  only  giver,  and  his  gift 
Is  one." 

Then  did  the  beggar  lift 
His  face  to  heaven,  and  utter  forth  a  cry 
As  of  the  pangs  of  death,  and  every  tree 
Moved  as  if  shaken  by  a  sudden  wind. 
He  cried  again,  and  there  came  forth  a  hand 
From  some  invisible  form,  which,  being  laid 
A  little  moment  on  the  curate's  eyes, 
It  dazzled  him  with  light  that  brake  from  it, 
So  that  he  saw  no  more. 

JEAN  INGELOW. 


the  background  of  pain  and  sorrow  often 
break  out  the  noblest  and  most  winning  mani- 
festations of  humanity.     The  depth  of  human  sym- 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  39 

pathy,  the  wealth  of  its  love,  is  displayed  in  scenes 
of  tribulation  and  need.  The  robes  of  charity 
show  their  whiteness  amid  the  gloom  of  poverty 
and  distress.  Christlike  patience  is  born  of  suf- 
fering, the  soul  shines  out  in  its  essential  splendor 
through  the  medium  of  bodily  anguish,  and  faith 
trims  her  lamp  in  the  shadow  of  the  grave.  Shall 
we  call  this  existence  a  trivial  thing,  whose  very 
miseries  are  the  occasions  of  the  noblest  triumphs, 
whose  trials  may  be  converted  into  divine  strength, 
whose  tears  may  change  into  celestial  dew,  and 
nourish  flowers  of  immortal  hope? 

EDWIN  H.  CHAPIN. 


I 


T  is  easy  to  suffer  and  to  wait  if  we  take  the  in- 
stant as  something  to  be  beautified. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 


TDAITH  and  patience  are  sure  of  ultimate 
-*•  triumph,  —  closed  doors  fly  open,  mountains 
of  difficulty  remove  before  the  resolute  will  of  man 
so  inspired.  The  evils,  failures,  moral  disasters, 
spiritual  tragedies  of  life,  can  only  be  met  worthily 
by  hearts  "  at  leisure  from  themselves." 

HENRY  WOODS  FERRIS. 


4O  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING, 


HPHEY  were  living  to  themselves.  Self,  with  its 
hopes  and  promises  and  dreams,  still  had 
hold  of  them :  but  the  Lord  began  to  fulfil  their 
prayers.  They  had  asked  for  contrition,  and  he 
sent  them  sorrow;  they  had  asked  for  purity, 
and  he  sent  them  thrilling  anguish ;  they  had 
asked  to  be  meek,  and  he  had  broken  their 
hearts ;  they  had  asked  to  be  dead  to  the  world, 
and  he  slew  all  their  living  hopes ;  they  had 
asked  to  be  made  like  unto  him,  and  he  placed 
them  in  the  furnace,  sitting  by  "as  a  refiner  of 
silver,"  till  they  should  reflect  his  image ;  they 
had  asked  to  lay  hold  of  his  cross,  and  when  he 
had  reached  it  to  them,  it  lacerated  their  hands. 
They  had  asked  they  knew  not  what,  nor  how ;  but 
he  had  taken  them  at  their  word,  and  granted 
them  all  their  petitions.  They  were  hardly  will- 
ing to  follow  on  so  far,  or  to  draw  so  nigh  to 
him.  They  had  upon  them  an  awe  and  fear,  as 
Jacob  at  Bethel,  or  Eliphaz  in  the  night  visions, 
or  as  the  Apostles  when  they  thought  they  had 
seen  a  spirit,  and  knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus. 
They  could  almost  pray  him  to  depart  from  them 
or  to  hide  his  awfulness.  They  found  it  easier  to 
obey  than  to  suffer,  to  do  than  to  give  up,  to 
bear  the  cross  than  to  hang  upon  it ;  but  they 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  41 

cannot  go  back,  for  they  have  come  too  near  the 
unseen  cross,  and  its  virtues  have  pierced  too 
deeply  within  them.  He  is  fulfilling  to  them  his 
promise,  "  And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all 
men  unto  me." 

But  now,  at  last,  their  turn  is  come.  Before, 
they  had  only  heard  of  the  mystery,  but  now  they 
feel  it.  He  has  fastened  on  them  his  look  of  love, 
as  he  did  on  Mary  and  Peter,  and  they  cannot  but 
choose  to  follow.  Little  by  little,  from  time  to 
time,  by  flitting  gleams,  the  mystery  of  his  cross 
shines  upon  them.  They  behold  him  lifted  up; 
they  gaze  upon  the  glory  which  rays  forth  from 
the  wounds  of  his  holy  passion ;  and  as  they  gaze, 
they  advance,  and  are  changed  into  his  likeness, 
and  his  name  shines  out  through  them,  for  he 
dwells  in  them.  They  live  alone  with  God  above, 
in  unspeakable  fellowship  ;  willing  to  lack  what 
others  own,  and  to  be  unlike  all  so  that  they  are 
only  like  him. 

Such  are  they  in  all  ages  who  follow  the  Lamb 
whithersoever  he  goeth.  Had  they  chosen  for 
themselves,  or  had  their  friends  chosen  for  them, 
they  would  have  chosen  otherwise.  They  would 
have  been  brighter  here,  but  less  glorious  in  his 
kingdom.  They  would  have  Lot's  portion,  not 
Abraham's.  If  they  had  halted  anywhere  —  if  he 


42  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

had  taken  off  his  hand,  and  let  them  stray  back  — 
what  would  they  not  have  lost !  But  he  stayed 
them  up,  even  against  themselves.  Many  a  time 
their  foot  had  well-nigh  slipped,  but  He  in  his 
mercy,  held  them  up;  now,  even  in  this  life,  they 
know  all  He  did  was  done  well.  It  was  good  for 
them  to  suffer,  —  they  "shall  reign ;  to  bear  the 
cross,  —  they  shall  wear  the  crown ;  and  not  that 
their  will  but  His  was  done  in  them. 

JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN. 

T)ALM  Sunday  is  the  anniversary- day  of  a 
grand  victory  over  life,  as  Easter  Sunday  is 
of  a  like  victory  over  death.  .  .  .  And  so  it  is  that 
this  day  is  sacred  to  us  as  the  day  on  which  the 
Saviour  turned  of  his  own  accord  to  death,  entered 
on  the  last  and  heaviest  pain,  bowed  his  head  to 
the  thorns  and  his  neck  to  the  cross,  gave  his 
cheek  to  the  smiter,  his  soul  to  the  agony,  and  his 
life  to  the  world. 

.  .  .  Over  there  is  the  great  city  and  temple, 
its  roofs  flashing  like  burnished  gold  in  the  sum- 
mer sunlight,  but  full  of  men  that  hate  him  and 
are  determined  to  kill  him  whenever  again  he  shall 
enter  its  gates.  There  behind  him  is  the  house  of 
the  sisters  where  he  is  so  welcomed  and  honored 
and  loved.  Away  over  to  the  North  is  dear 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES,  43 

old  Galilee,  where  he  wandered  as  a  boy  and 
worked  as  a  man.  And  why  should  he  not  turn 
the  head  of  his  yearling  round,  go  back  to  Beth- 
any, rest  and  repair  his  wasted  strength,  and  then 
go  to  his  old  home  and  be  quiet  forevermore? 

Ah,  friends,  when  we  know  why,  we  know  one 
of  the  most  inestimable  secrets  that  ever  found  its 
way  into  human  souls;  for  then  we  know  how 
one  little  word  of  four  letters,  repeated  in  the  quiet 
of  the  soul,  can  outweigh  all  the  pleading  of  the 
nature  for  exemption  from  pain,  all  the  longings 
of  the  heart  for  the  world's  best  blessings,  all  the 
shrinking  of  the  soul  itself  from  the  horrors  of 
great  darkness,  and  can  carry  us  through  Geth- 
semane  and  up  Calvary  and  roll  the  great  stone 
away  from  the  sepulchre  and  lift  us  through  the 
parting  cloud ;  and  that  small  whispered  word  is 
Duty,  and  its  twin  sister  is  Love. 

And  I  know  of  nothing  more  fruitful  of  instruc- 
tion than  to  imagine  for  a  moment  that  he  should 
have  yielded  to  the  feeling  that  so  straggled  with 
Duty  as,  soon  after,  to  compel  him  to  cry,  "  Father, 
if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me,"  and 
so  turn  back  to  Bethany  and  Galilee  and  the  old 
quiet  life  again.  What,  then,  must  have  been  the 
result?  Let  me  remember  it  whenever  nature 
grapples  with  duty  and  tries  to  force  her  back  to 


44  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

ease  and  quiet  on  my  Palm  Sunday.  .  .  .  Had  it 
been  possible  that  the  whisper  of  that  one  little 
word  should  not  be  more  than  all  beside  to  the 
Messiah,  there  would  have  been  no  Messiah  and 
no  Saviour.  The  most  glorious  things  in  this 
world's  history  and  life  would  have  been  a  dead 
blank.  The  infinite,  the  divine  patience,  the 
words  that  have  sunk  into  the  world's  heart,  the 
things  that  have  renewed  the  world's  life,  had  all 
gone  back  with  that  retreating  figure,  and  no  such 
light  as  rests  there  now,  had  rested  on  our  graves, 
and  no  shining  ones  sat  there  to  tell  us  they  are 
empty  of  all  but  the  graveclothes.  The  tenant 
has  risen  and  gone  to  the  old  home  again  (to  our 
Galilee) .  Thank  God,  it  could  not  be  so  !  The 
sun  shining  overhead  that  Palm  Sunday  had  sooner 
turned  back  to  his  rising  than  Jesus  had  gone  back 
to  Bethany. 

But  the  lesson  touches  the  heart  as  directly, 
stands  before  us  as  imperiously,  is  as  inevitable,  as 
if  it  could  have  been ;  and  it  is  this :  suppose  I 
turn  back  when  Duty  whispers,  Go  right  on ;  sup- 
pose sorrow  and  trial  and  pain,  or  the  prospect  of 
it,  masters  me,  what  then?  Then  there  is  no 
Palm  Sunday  in  my  calendar ;  no  shout  for  me  of 
"  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord!"  In  turning  back,  in  shrinking  back,  in 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  45 

failing  to  face  all  I  fear  when  that  little  word  is 
whispered  in  my  soul,  I  leave  that  part  of  my  life 
which  may  be  the  very  condition  of  immortality  a 
dead  blank.  ROBERT  COLLYER. 

rPHE  world's  supreme  act  of  self-sacrifice  was 
serene  and  calm  in  the  moment  of  its  per- 
formance ;  anguished  and  awful  in  the  moments 
of  its  preparation.  It  was  always  in  the  intensity 
of  prayer  that  our  Lord  saw  what  the  Father 
willed  him  to  do  :  and  the  natural  weakness  which 
trembled  and  shrank  was  poured  into  the  bosom 
of  the  communing  Comforter  and  replaced  by  his 
strength,  so  that  the  real  trial  was  over  before  the 
outward  occasion  came ;  and  then  no  defeat  was 
possible,  for  every  element  of  infirmity  had  been 
brought  to  the  Light  in  which  is  no  darkness,  and 
before  him  had  passed  away.  And  thus  forever 
prayer  remains  the  great  duty  of  our  nature, 
whether  in  the  times  in  which  sadly  and  humbly 
we  resort  to  it  as  our  refuge  from  the  stupor  or  the 
wilfulness  of  selfishness  and  sin,  or  in  the  times  in 
which  we  feel  invited  to  communion,  with  the 
rapture  and  delight  of  clear  vision  offered  to  us  if 
we  will  obey  the  call,  and  not  shrink  from  the 
glorifying  effort  to  meet  our  God. 

JOHN  HAMILTON  THOM. 


46  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

"V7OU  may  teach  your  child  his  prayers,  and  he 
•*•  shall  say  them  with  bended  knee  and  reverent 
lips,  and  you  shall  explain  to  him  how  God  hears 
and  answers  prayers,  and  he  shall  heed  your  coun- 
sels, and  go  to  church  and  join  decorously  in  the 
service,  and  be  shocked  and  pained  at  irrever- 
ence in  others,  —  and  all  the  while  have  hardly  yet 
known  what  prayer  is,  until  in  some  profound  trial, 
under  some  bitter  bereavement,  in  some  humilia- 
ting or  threatening  exposure,  in  some  awakening 
throe  of  conscience,  some  shock  of  the  intellect  or 
the  will,  the  theorizer  and  second-hand  saint  finds 
himself  overboard  and  called  to  swim  for  his  life, 
—  no  bladders  under  him,  no  fenced-in  swimming- 
bath  around  him,  no  life-boat  near,  —  nothing  left 
but  the  distant  shore  and  his  muscles,  courage  and 
effort  to  reach  it !  Then  it  is,  when  the  soul  cries 
out  for  the  living  God,  longs  and  faints  for  his 
presence,  and  in  its  fierce  struggle  for  life  strikes 
out  with  its  spiritual  limbs  to  reach  its  shore,  that 
faith  is  born ;  that  God's  spirit  comes  under  the 
soul,  like  the  bounding,  elastic  sea  beneath  the 
trusting  swimmer;  that  prayer  becomes  its  own 
interpreter,  God  his  own  witness,  and  the  soul  its 
own  teacher  and  way. 

Experience  is  the  inward  light,  and  it  will  satisfy 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  47 

each  soul  in  its  own  way.  All  eyes  are  not  helped 
in  the  same  way;  too  much  light  blinds  as  cer- 
tainly as  too  little ;  but  God  puts  a  taper,  a  candle, 
a  star,  a  sun,  a  heaven  of  suns  into  the  souls  of  his 
children,  just  as  they  need  or  can  bear  more  or 
less.  The  glow-worm's  light  guides  its  mate  as 
well  as  the  morning  star  guides  the  dawn.  Not 
what  your  soul,  but  what  my  soul  needs,  —  not 
what  would  satisfy  you,  but  what  satisfies  me,  —  is 
the  heart's  rightful  demand ;  and  this  is  just  what 
religious  experience,  when  it  comes,  gives  to  every 
soul. 

If  people  would  only  believe  in  just  that  little 
original  religious  experience  which  each  of  them 
possesses,  if  they  would  only  trust  the  light  that 
lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world, 
how  soon  they  would  find  it  increasing  and  shed- 
ding ever  more  satisfying  illumination  on  their 
way.  HENRY  W.  BELLOWS. 

TN  an  old  book  of  emblems  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
A  tury,  there  is  a  device  of  the  God  of  Love,  not 
blind  but  winged,  and  with  a  pair  of  dividers  in 
his  hands,  planting  one  point  firmly  on  the  centre, 
and  with  the  other  free,  preparing  to  sweep  the 
universe  with  his  circle.  Beneath  is  the  legend, 
"  From  one  fixed  point  I  include  all."  Is  not  this 


48  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

a  motto  for  the  human  soul?  We  have  the  start- 
ing-place, the  centre,  the  fixed  point,  in  our  per- 
sonal experience,  —  a  mere  spark  of  divine  life  it 
may  seem ;  but  the  smallest  soul  has  room  for 
that,  and  from  that  shining  spark  the  possibilities 
of  infinite  knowledge,  infinite  wisdom,  infinite  gain 
in  piety  and  truth,  submit  themselves  to  our 
conquest. 

Stand,  then,  on  that  central  spot,  your  own  relig- 
ious experience ;  give  it  not  up  to  any  summons ; 
barter  it  not  for  any  other  possession ;  suspect  it 
not  for  any  challenge  of  others.  But  with  your 
soul  opening  and  questful,  one  foot  fixed  and  one 
loose  and  free,  step  forward,  widen  the  circle  of 
light,  conquer  the  darkness,  and  finally  hope  to  see 
as  you  are  seen,  to  know  as  you  are  known,  and 
to  have  all  mysteries  lost  in  fulness  of  light  and 
love.  HENRY  W.  BELLOWS. 


'IT  7  HAT  then  is  our  help  ?  How  then  shall  we 
reconcile  ourselves  to  life  ?  Only  by  throw- 
ing ourselves,  as  Christ  did,  when  sorrows  of  this 
kind  came  upon  him,  out  of  ourselves  into  love  of 
God,  and  into  love  of  man.  Again  and  again 
when  Jesus  was  half  broken-hearted  with  the  evil 
which  attacked  him,  he  went  into  the  wilderness 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  49 

or  to  the  mountain  top  to  pray  alone,  to  realize 
his  union  with  the  Father.  In  the  very  last  and 
bitterest  sorrow,  when  even  his  best  beloved  could 
not  watch  with  him  for  one  hour,  he  sought  in  the 
olive  garden  communion  with  his  Father.  And 
there,  in  utter  loss  of  self,  he  found  the  peace 
which  carried  him  through  a  death  inflicted  by 
those  who  hated  him  who  died  for  them  in  love. 

This  is  one  secret  of  victory  over  suffering,  — 
loss  of  self  in  love  of  God. 

But  that  alone  would  not  have  been  enough  for 
Jesus.  For  such  solitary  communion  tends  to 
isolate  us  with  ourselves.  Jesus,  and  we  with  him, 
must  lose  himself  in  communion  with  God  through 
work  of  love  done  to  mankind.  He  passed  from 
his  own  trouble  into  active  help,  and  forgot  all 
pain  in  the  larger  thoughts  of  what  he  might  do  to 
heal  and  succor  pain.  I  think  some  of  us  might 
try  that  way.  Trouble,  anxiety,  discontent,  double 
themselves  by  brooding  on  them ;  they  lessen  to  a 
shred  when  we  seek  the  anxious,  the  troubled  and 
the  discontented,  and  lift  them  up,  using  our  pain 
to  help  their  pain.  It  is  by  work  of  this  kind  that 
the  vast  conception  of  mankind  growing  through 
sorrow  and  sacrifice  into  union  with  God  slowly 
arises  in  us,  and  dwarfs  in  the  end  all  our  personal 
distress.  We  live  then  in  so  glorious  an  idea  that 
4 


5O  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

we  feel  our  life  glorious.  We  prize  the  breath  we 
share  with  human  kind,  however  painfully  we  draw 
it;  and  at  last,  driven  by  pain  to  feel  with  the 
pain  of  the  world,  learn  the  ineffable  joy  of  that 
forgetfulness  of  self  in  sympathy  with  others  which 
was  the  support,  nay,  even  the  rapture  of  Christ 
upon  the  Cross ;  which,  touched  for  one  moment 
with  the  depth  of  agony,  passed  into  that  majestic 
cry  of  peace  and  joy,  "  It  is  finished ;  Father,  into 
thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit." 

We  may,  with  him,  feel  the  very  worst  agony  of 
life,  and  know  we  can  live  no  more.  But  if,  in  the 
midst  of  it,  we  live  in  love,  if  still,  for  all  the  pain, 
we  lose  ourselves,  we  shall  win  the  last  and  crown- 
ing joy  of  death  for  love.  For  God  does  not  ask 
us  to  live  longer  than  we  can.  The  hour  comes 
when  death,  our  friend,  releases  us ;  and  then  all 
our  long  repression,  all  the  forces  of  sorrowful 
effort,  all  the  noble  pain,  are  transformed  into  the 
expansion  of  the  soul,  into  powers  of  joy,  into  the 
inconceivable  rapidity  with  which  we  live  and 
work  in  the  life  and  labor  of  God. 

STOPFORD  A.  BROOKE. 

"  T  AM  the  True  Vine,"  said  our  Lord,  "  and  Ye, 

J-     My  Brethren,  are  the  Branches;  "  and  that  Vine 
Then  first  uplifted  in  its  place,  and  hung 
With  its  first  purple  grapes,  since  then  has  grown, 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  51 

Until  its  green  leaves  gladden  half  the  world, 
And  from  its  countless  clusters  rivers  flow 
For  healing  of  the  nations,  and  its  boughs 
Innumerable  stretch  through  all  the  earth, 
Ever  increasing,  ever  each  entwined 
With  each,  all  living  from  the  Central  Heart. 
And  you  and  I,  my  brethren,  live  and  grow, 
Branches  of  that  immortal  human  Stem. 

Let  us  consider  now  this  life  of  the  Vine 
Whereof  we  are  partakers  :  we  shall  see 
Its  way  is  not  of  pleasure  nor  of  ease. 
It  groweth  not  like  the  wild  trailing  weeds 
Whither  it  willeth,  flowering  here  and  there ; 
Or  lifting  up  proud  blossoms  to  the  sun, 
Kissed  by  the  butterflies,  and  glad  for  life, 
And  glorious  in  their  beautiful  array ; 
Or  running  into  lovely  labyrinths 
Of  many  forms  and  many  fantasies, 
Rejoicing  in  its  own  luxuriant  life. 

The  flower  of  the  Vine  is  but  a  little  thing, 
The  least  part  of  its  life,  —  you  scarce  could  tell 
It  ever  had  a  flower  ;  the  fruit  begins 
Almost  before  the  flower  has  had  its  day. 
And  as  it  grows,  it  is  not  free  to  heaven, 
But  tied  to  a  stake  ;  and  if  its  arms  stretch  out, 
It  is  but  crosswise,  also  forced  and  bound ; 
And  so  it  draws  out  of  the  hard  hill-side, 
Fixed  in  its  own  place,  its  own  food  of  life ; 
And  quickens  with  it,  breaking  forth  in  bud, 


52  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Joyous  and  green,  and  exquisite  of  form, 

Wreathed  lightly  into  tendril,  leaf,  and  bloom. 

Yea,  the  grace  of  the  green  vine  makes  all  the  land 

Lovely  in  spring-time  ;  and  it  still  grows  on 

Faster,  in  lavishness  of  its  own  life  ; 

Till  the  fair  shoots  begin  to  wind  and  wave 

In  the  blue  air,  and  feel  how  sweet  it  is. 

But  so  they  leave  it  not ;  the  husbandman 

Comes  early,  with  the  pruning-hooks  and  shears, 

And  strips  it  bare  of  all  its  innocent  pride, 

And  wandering  garlands,  and  cuts  deep  and  sure, 

Unsparing  for  its  tenderness  and  joy. 

And  in  its  loss  and  pain  it  wasteth  not ; 

But  yields  itself  with  unabated  life, 

More  perfect  under  the  despoiling  hand. 

The  bleeding  limbs  are  hardened  into  wood  ; 

The  thinned-out  bunches  ripen  into  fruit 

More  full  and  precious,  to  the  purple  prime. 

And  still,  the  more  it  grows,  the  straighter  bound 
Are  all  its  branches ;  and  as  rounds  the  fruit, 
And  the  heart's  crimson  comes  to  show  in  it, 
And  it  advances  to  its  hour,  —  its  leaves 
Begin  to  droop  and  wither  in  the  sun ; 
But  still  the  life-blood  flows,  and  does  not  fail, 
All  into  fruitfulness,  all  into  form. 

Then  comes  the  vintage,  for  the  days  are  ripe. 
And  surely  now  in  its  perfected  bloom, 
It  may  rejoice  a  little  in  its  crown, 
Though  it  bend  low  beneath  the  weight  of  it, 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  53 

Wrought  out  of  the  long  striving  of  its  heart. 

But  ah  !  the  hands  are  ready  to  tear  down 

The  treasures  of  the  grapes;  the  feet  are  there 

To  tread  them  in  the  wine-press,  gathered  in  ; 

Until  the  blood-red  rivers  of  the  wine 

Run  over,  and  the  land  is  full  of  joy. 

But  the  vine  standeth  stripped  and  desolate, 

Having  given  all ;  and  now  its  own  dark  time 

Is  come,  and  no  man  payeth  back  to  it 

The  comfort  and  the  glory  of  its  gift ; 

But  rather,  now  most  merciless,  all  pain 

And  loss  are  piled  together,  as  its  days 

Decline,  and  the  spring  sap  has  ceased  to  flow; 

Now  is  it  cut  back  to  the  very  stem ; 

Despoiled,  disfigured,  left  a  leafless  stock, 

Alone  through  all  the  dark  days  that  shall  come. 

And  all  the  winter  time  the  wine  gives  joy 

To  those  who  else  were  dismal  in  the  cold ; 

But  the  vine  standeth  out  amid  the  frost ; 

And  after  all  hath  only  this  grace  left, 

That  it  endures  in  long,  lone  steadfastness 

The  winter  through,  —  and  next  year  blooms  again; 

Not  bitter  for  the  torment  undergone, 

Not  barren  for  the  fulness  yielded  up  ; 

As  fair  and  fruitful  towards  the  sacrifice 

As  if  no  touch  had  ever  come  to  it 

But  the  soft  airs  of  heaven  and  dews  of  earth,  — 

And  so  fulfils  itself  in  love  once  more. 

And  now  what  more  shall  I  say  ? 
The  Vine  from  every  living  limb  bleeds  wine  ; 


54  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Is  it  the  poorer  for  that  spirit  shed  ? 
Measure  thy  life  by  loss  instead  of  gain  ; 
For  love's  strength  standeth  in  love's  sacrifice  ; 
And  whoso  suffers  most  hath  most  to  give. 

The  living  Vine,  —  Christ  chose  it  for  himself : 
God  gave  to  man  for  use  and  sustenance 
Corn,  wine,  and  oil,  and  each  of  these  is  good  : 
And  Christ  is  Bread  of  Life  and  Light  of  Life. 
But  yet  he  did  not  choose  the  summer  corn, 
That  shoots  up  straight  and  free  in  one  quick  growth, 
And  has  its  day,  and  is  done,  and  springs  no  more  : 
Nor  yet  the  olive,  all  whose  boughs  are  spread 
In  the  soft  air,  and  never  lose  a  leaf, 
Flowering  and  fruitful  in  perpetual  peace  : 
But  only  this  for  him  and  his  in  one,  — 
The  everlasting,  ever-quickening  Vine, 
That  gives  the  heat  and  passion  of  the  world, 
Through  its  own  life-blood,  still  renewed  and  shed. 

UGO  BASSI. 
Rendered  in  English  verse  by  HARRIET  E.  H.  KING. 

GOD  did  anoint  thee  with  his  odorous  oil, 
To  wrestle,  not  to  reign  ;  and  he  assigns 
All  thy  tears  over,  like  pure  crystallines, 
For  younger  fellow-workers  of  the  soil 
To  wear  for  amulets.     So  others  shall 
Take  patience,  labor,  to  their  heart  and  hand, 
From  thy  hand,  and  thy  heart,  and  thy  brave  cheer, 
And  God's  grace  fructify  through  thee  to  all. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  $5 


OMAY  I  join  the  choir  invisible 
Of  those  immortal  dead  who  live  again 
In  minds  made  better  by  their  presence  ;  live 
In  pulses  stirred  to  generosity, 
In  deeds  of  daring  rectitude,  in  scorn 
Of  miserable  aims  that  end  with  self, 
In  thoughts  sublime  that  pierce  the  night  like  stars, 
And  with  their  mild  persistence  urge  men's  minds 
To  vaster  issues. 

May  I  reach 

That  purest  heaven,  —  be  to  other  souls 
The  cup  of  strength  in  some  great  agony, 
Enkindle  generous  ardor,  feed  pure  love, 
Beget  the  smiles  that  have  no  cruelty, 
Be  the  sweet  presence  of  a  good  diffused, 
And  in  diffusion  ever  more  intense  ! 
So  shall  I  join  the  choir  invisible, 
Whose  music  is  the  gladness  of  the  world. 

GEORGE  ELIOT. 


T  HAVE  long  looked  at  it  as  a  most  blessed 
•*•  compensation  to  our  troubles  that  they  teach 
us  how  to  sympathize  with  others ;  yes,  they  teach 
us  what  sympathy  itself  is.  You  may  throw  all 
your  heart  into  it,  by  every  imagination,  but,  if  it 
have  not  actually  pressed  its  hot  and  heavy  hand 


56  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

upon  you,  you  cannot  know  what  affliction  is,  you 
cannot  know  the  sympathy  that  starts  quick  within 
one  as  he  feels  that  another  has  come  within  the 
great  guild  and  mystery  of  grief;  nor  can  your  very 
truest  word  give  that  something  of  nameless,  unut- 
terable support  which  comes  from  one  who  is 
known  to  have  been  a  sufferer.  In  every  circle 
you  will  find  those  who  seem  singled  out,  whose 
society  is  craved,  who  get  to  be  the  ones  sent  for 
and  relied  upon,  not  because  of  any  eloquent 
tongue,  or  much  doing,  or  any  special  tact,  but 
because  of  the  grace  that  is  only  of  experience, 
that  teaches  just  what  to  do  and  when  to  forbear. 
There  are  some  faces  on  which  sorrow  has  written 
that  which  is  more  comforting  than  all  beatitudes ; 
some  tones  that  have  a  music  in  them  joy  never 
has ;  some  manners  it  would  seem  only  angels 
could  wear;  and  all  learned  under  the  stern  and 
fiery,  the  purifying,  elevating  ministry  of  trouble, 
the  school  in  which  souls  are  taught  life's  holiest 
duties,  and  led  into  life's  grandest  issues. 

But  sympathy  is  no  native  gift;  it  is  beyond 
that.  The  finest  feelings,  the  most  exquisite 
adapting  of  ourselves  to  others'  standpoint,  do  not 
give  it.  It  is  a  thing  of  culture,  and  its  crowning 
culture  is  from  sorrows  ourselves  have  met  and 
have  wisely  borne.  It  is  a  divine  gift  and  privi- 


LIFE'S   VICTORIES.  57 

lege,  this  power  of  sympathy ;  and  it  has  a  divine 
mission,  —  divine  in  that  it  leads  us  among  the 
superior  things,  and  shows  us  how  we,  too,  may 
handle  the  things  that  ally  us  with  God. 

JOHN  F.  W.  WARE. 


I  WILL  not  let  thee  go  until  thou  bless  me.  —  GEN. 
xxxii.  26. 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY. 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY. 

ALL  things  are  yours,  .  .  .  whether  life  or  death. — 
I  COR.  iii.  21,  22. 


rPHERE  is  an  "  unseen  universe  "  lying  over 
against  and  within  that  which  is  visible  and 
apparent  to  the  senses.  The  outer,  the  visible,  is 
in  a  state  of  constant  whirl  and  change ;  it  may  be 
resolved  back  into  its  original  elements,  or  dis- 
sipated in  impalpable  gases ;  but  the  universe  of 
life  and  principles  in  which  man  finds  his  con- 
sciousness, his  freedom,  his  real  self- hood,  is  not 
and  cannot  be  affected  by  any  of  these  outer 
changes.  Man  may  sum  up  in  himself  all  there  is 
of  nature  below  him ;  but  this  is  not  his  full  meas- 
ure ;  he  is  more ;  he  is  a  spirit ;  he  has  a  moral 
nature ;  he  has  free-will.  And  thus  man,  though 
a  part  of  nature,  and  with  a  body  conditioned  in 
natural  laws,  has  a  something  beyond  this,  and 
hence  he  may  give  back  his  body  to  the  earth,  and 
yet  himself  live  on  in  his  finer,  his  real  world  of 
spirit.  .  .  . 


62  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Life  is  a  fact,  —  a  persistent  energy,  making  pos- 
sible and  holding  all  there  is  in  thought,  in  beauty, 
in  love,  in  joy.  Death  is  a  nonentity,  a  nothing ; 
or  only  a  passing  phase,  or  an  appearance.  "  God 
is  not  the  God  of  the  dead  but  of  the  living  "  —  of 
life;  and  hence,  in  the  world  of  the  real  there  is 
no  death.  H.  W.  THOMAS. 


\\  7"E  are,  perhaps,  too  much  in  the  habit  of 
^  *  thinking  of  death  as  the  culmination  of  dis- 
ease, which  regarded  only  in  itself,  is  an  evil,  and 
a  terrible  evil.  But  I  think  rather  of  death  as  the 
first  pulse  of  the  new  strength,  shaking  itself  free 
from  the  old  mouldy  remnants  of  earth-garments, 
that  it  may  begin  in  freedom  the  new  life  that 
grows  out  of  the  old.  The  caterpillar  dies  into 
the  butterfly.  Who  knows  but  disease  may  be  the 
coming  of  the  keener  life  breaking  into  this,  and 
beginning  to  destroy,  like  fire,  the  inferior  modes 
or  garments  of  the  present?  And  thus  disease 
would  be  but  the  sign  of  the  salvation  of  fire ;  of 
the  agony  of  the  greater  life  to  lift  us  to  itself,  out 
of  that  wherein  we  are  failing  and  sinning.  And 
so  we  praise  the  consuming  fire  of  life. 

GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY.  63 

"TVEATH  had  no  bitterness.  It  was  rather  an 
exhalation  than  a  dissolution.  Immortality 
was  not  a  tradition ;  it  was  a  personal  assurance. 
He  lived  in  the  glory  of  its  promise,  as  plants  live 
in  air.  As  the  sunshine  sleeps  in  the  sods,  so 
heaven  melted  into  his  earth. 

"  To  thee  death  was  not 
So  much  even  as  the  lifting  of  a  latch ; 
Only  a  step  into  the  open  air, 
Out  of  a  tent  already  luminous 

With  light  that  shines  through  its  transparent  walls ! " 
OCTAVIUS  BROOKS  FROTHINGHAM, 

of  WILLIAM  HENRY  CHANNING. 

He  quickeneth,  but  "  He  killeth  :  "  blessed  they 
Who  may  abide  in  trust  that  final  day  / 

TELALU-'D-'DIN,  ER-RUMI,  the  saint  of  Balkh, 
j     the  son 
Of  him  surnamed  "  Flower  of  the  Faith,"  this  was  a 

chosen  one, 
To  whom   Death    softly  showed    himself,   Heaven's 

gentle  call  to  give ; 
For  what  word  is  it  bids  us  die,  save  that  which  made 

us  live  ? 

Sick  lay  he  there  in  Konya ;  'twas  dawn;  the  golden 

stream 
Of  light,  new  springing  in  the  east,  on  his  thin  lips  did 

gleam,  — 


64  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Those  lips  which  spake  the  praise  of  God  all  through 

his  holy  years, 
And  murmured  now,  with  faith  and  hope  unchanged, 

the  morning  prayers. 

Then  one  who  watched  beside  his  bed  heard  at  the 

inner  gate 
A  voice  cry,  "  Aftah  !  '  Open ! '  from  far  I  come,  and 

wait 
To  speak  my  message  to  Jelal,  —  a  message  that  will 

bring- 
Peace   and   reward   to   him  who    lies   the  Fdtihah 

murmuring." 

Thereat  the  watcher  drew  the  bar  which  closed  the 

chamber-door, 
Wondering  and  'feared,  for  ne'er  was  heard  upon  this 

earth  before 
Accents  so  sweet  and  comforting,  nor  ever  eyes  of 

men 
Saw  presence  so  majestical  as  his  who  entered  then. 

Entered   with    gliding   footsteps    a    bright    celestial 

youth, 
Splendid  and  strange  in  beauty,  past  words  to  speak 

its  truth  ; 
Midnight  is  not  so  dark  and  deep  as  was  his  solemn 

gaze, 
By  love  and  pity  lighted,  as  the  night  with  silvery 

rays. 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY.  65 

'What  is  thy  name?"  the  watcher  asked,  "that  I 

may  tell  my  lord, 
Thou  fair  and  dreadful  messenger,  whose  glance  is  as 

a  sword ; 
Whose  face  is  like  the  Heaven  unveiled ;  whose  tender, 

searching  voice 
Maketh  the  heart  cease  beating,  but  bids  the  soul 

rejoice." 

"  AZRAEL  ANA,"  spake  the  shape, "  I  am  the  Spirit  of 
Death ; 

And  I  am  sent  from  Allah's  throne  to  stay  thy  mas- 
ter's breath." 

"Come  in!  come  in!  thou  Bird  of  God,"  cried  joy- 
ously Jelal, 

"  Fold  down  thy  heavenly  plumes  and  speak  !  —  Islam ! 
what  shall  be,  shall." 

"  Thou  blessed  one ! "  the  Angel  said,  "  I  bring  thy 

time  of  peace ; 
When  I  have  touched  thee  on  the  eyes,  life's  latest 

ache  will  cease ; 
God  bade  me  come  as  I  am  seen  amid  the  heavenly 

host, 
No  enemy  of  awful  mould,  but  he  who  loveth  most." 

"  Dear  Angel !  do  what  thou  art  bid,"  quoth  Jelal, 

smilingly, 
"  God  willing,  thou  shalt  find  to-day  a  patient  one  in 

me; 

5 


66  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Sweet  is  the  cup  of  bitterness  which  cometh  in  such 

wise  ! " 
With  that  he  bowed  his  saintly  brow,  —  and  Azrael 

kissed  his  eyes. 

Al-Mumit !  "  Slayer  !  "  send  him  thus, 
In  love,  not  anger,  unto  its. 

EDWIN  ARNOLD. 
From  the  ARABIC. 

DEATH'S  ANGEL. 

COME  with  a  smiler  when  come  thou  must, 
Evangel  of  the  world  to  be, 
And  touch  and  glorify  this  dust,  — 

This  shuddering  dust  that  now  is  me,  — 
And  from  this  prison  set  me  free  ! 

Long  in  those  awful  eyes  I  quail, 
That  gaze  across  the  grim  profound; 

Upon  that  sea  there  is  no  sail, 
Nor  any  light  nor  any  sound 
From  the  far  shore  that  girds  it  round  : 

Only  —  two  still  and  steady  rays 
That  those  twin  orbs  of  doom  o'ertop  ; 

Only  —  a  quiet,  patient  gaze 

That  drinks  my  being,  drop  by  drop, 
And  bids  the  pulse  of  nature  stop. 

Come  with  a  smile,  auspicious  friend, 
To  usher  in  the  eternal  day ! 


DEATITS  MINISTRY.  6/ 

Of  these  weak  terrors  make  an  end, 
And  charm  the  paltry  chains  away 
That  bind  me  to  this  timorous  clay ! 

And  let  me  know  my  soul  akin 
To  sunrise  and  the  winds  of  morn, 

And  every  grandeur  that  has  been 

Since  this  all-glorious  world  was  born,  — 
Nor  longer  droop  in  my  own  scorn. 

Come,  when  the  way  grows  dark  and  chill ! 

Come,  when  the  baffled  mind  is  weak, 
And  in  the  heart  that  voice  is  still, 

Which  used  in  happier  days  to  speak, 

Or  only  whispers,  sadly  meek. 

Come  with  a  smile  that  dims  the  sun  I 
With  pitying  heart  and  gentle  hand! 

And  waft  me,  from  a  work  that 's  done, 
To  peace,  that  waits  on  thy  command, 
In  some  mysterious  better  land. 

WILLIAM  WINTER. 


I  SIT  alone  and  watch  the  darkening  years, 
And  all  my  heart  grows  dim  with  doubt  and  fear? 
Till  out  of  deepest  gloom  a  Face  appears  ; 
The  only  one  of  all  that  shineth  clear. 

Make  white  thy  wedding-garments,  O  my  soul ! 

And  sigh  no  longer  for  thy  scanty  dower  ; 
For  if  He  loves  thee,  He  will  crown  the  whole 

With  nobler  beauty  and  immortal  power. 


68  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

0  mighty  Angel  of  the  secret  name  ! 

Come,  for  my  heart  doth  answer  thy  All-hail ; 

1  know  thy  clasp  is  like  a  wind  of  flame ; 
I  know  that  I  shall  perish,  yet  prevail. 

Come  with  the  new  name  and  the  mystic  stone, 
And  speak  so  low  that  none  shall  hear  the  call. 

O  beautiful,  beloved,  and  still  unknown, 
I  ask  Thee  naught;  Thy  look  hath  promised  all ! 

CARL  SPENCER. 

MY  soul  is  full  of  whispered  song, 
My  blindness  is  my  sight,  — 
The  shadows  that  I  feared  so  long 
Are  all  alive  with  light. 

The  while  my  pulses  faintly  beat, 

My  faith  doth  so  abound, 
I  feel  grow  firm  beneath  my  feet 

The  green,  immortal  ground. 

The  palace  walls  I  almost  see 

Where  dwells  my  Lord  and  King: 

O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory ! 
O  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ! 

ALICE  GARY. 

SONG   OF   THE   SILENT   LAND. 

INTO  the  Silent  Land  ! 
Ah  !  who  shall  lead  us  thither  ? 
Clouds  in  the  evening  sky  more  darkly  gather, 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY.  69 

And  shattered  wrecks  lie  thicker  on  the  strand. 
Who  leads  us  with  a  gentle  hand 
Thither,  O  thither, 
Into  the  Silent  Land? 

Into  the  Silent  Land  ! 

To  you,  ye  boundless  regions 

Of  all  perfection  !     Tender  morning-visions 

Of  beauteous  souls  !    The  Future's  pledge  and  band ! 

Who  in  Life's  battle  firm  doth  stand, 

Shall  bear  Hope's  tender  blossoms 

Into  the  Silent  Land  ! 

O  Land  !  O  Land  ! 

For  all  the  broken-hearted 

The  mildest  herald  by  our  fate  allotted 

Beckons,  and  with  inverted  torch  doth  stand 

To  lead  us  with  a  gentle  hand 

To  the  land  of  the  great  Departed, 

Into  the  Silent  Land  ! 

HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 

From  the  German  of  SALTS. 


GOOD-NIGHT!    NOT   GOOD-BY." 

SAW  my  Lady  die  ; 

And  he,  who  ofttimes  cruel  is,  dark  Death, 
Was  so  deep  sorrowful  to  stay  her  breath, 
He  came  all  clemency : 


I 


7O  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

He  would  not  let  her  know  ; 
So  well  he  loved  the  bright  soul  he  must  take, 
That  for  our  grieving  and  her  own  fair  sake 

He  hid  his  shaft  and  bow : 


Upon  her  lips  he  laid 

That  "  kiss  of  God  "  which  kills  but  does  not  harm  ; 
With  tender  message,  breathing  no  alarm, 

He  said,  "  Be  unafraid  !  " 

Sorrow  grew  almost  glad, 
Pain  half  forgiven,  parting  well-nigh  kind, 
To  mark  how  placidly  my  Lady's  mind 

Consented.     Ready  clad 

In  robes  of  unseen  light 

Her  willing  soul  spread  wing ;  and,  while  she  passed, 
"  Darling  !  good-by  !  "  we  moaned  —  but  she,  at  last, 

Murmured,  "  No  !  but  good-night !  " 

Good-night,  then  !  Sweetheart !  Wife  ! 
If  this  world  be  the  dark  time,  and  its  morrow 
Day-dawn  of  Paradise,  dispelling  sorrow, 

Lighting  our  starless  Life. 

Good-night !  —  and  not  good-by  ! 
Good-night !  —  and  best  "  Good-morrow !  "  when  we 

wake; 
Yet  why  so  quickly  tired  ?    Well,  we  must  make 

Haste  to  be  done,  and  die  ! 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY.  J\ 

For  dying  has  grown  dear 

Now  you  are  dead,  who  turned  all  things  to  grace  ; 
We  see  Death  made  pale  slumber  on  your  face  ; 

Good-night !  —  But  is  dawn  near  ? 

EDWIN  ARNOLD.  • 


IN    SLEEP. 
" He giveth  his  beloved  (in)  sleep" 

NOT  in  our  waking  hours  alone 
His  constancy  and  care  are  known ; 
But  locked  in  slumber  fast  and  deep 
He  giveth  to  us  while  we  sleep. 

What  giveth  He  ?     From  toil  release. 
Quiet  from  God,  night's  starlit  peace ; 
Till  with  the  coming  of  the  morn 
We  greet  the  day,  like  it  new-born. 

And  pondering  this  mystery, 
There  came  a  larger  truth  to  me,  — 
How  in  the  sleep  that  we  call  death 
He  sleepeth  not  nor  slumbereth, 

But  still  sustains  the  silent  soul 
Until  the  shadows  backward  roll, 
And  with  the  passing  of  the  night 
It  wakens  in  immortal  light ! 

What  giveth  He  ?     No  more  again 
To  know  the  touch  of  mortal  pain ; 


72  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

All  weakness  past,  each  fetter  riven,  — 
For  earth  the  larger  life  of  Heaven ! 

Dear  friend,  as  o'er  thy  pallid  face 
The  tall  white  lilies  breathed  their  peace, 
And  stillness  like  a  solitude 
Enwrapt  the  tearful  multitude, 

How  sweetly  on  that  sea  of  calm 
Floated  the  music  of  the  psalm,  — 
The  Spirit's  voice  upon  the  deep, 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep !  " 

Once  more  the  sun  with  lavish  hand 
Pours  lengthening  day  along  the  land ; 
But  not  with  spring-time  bloom  and  bird 
Thy  smile  returns,  thy  voice  is  heard  : 

Yet  still  we  say  the  old-time  words, 
"  In  life,  in  death,  we  are  the  Lord's  ; " 
And  trust  thee  to  His  love  to  keep 
Who  giveth  to  His  own  in  sleep. 

FREDERICK  L.  HOSMER. 


"  'T  is  better  to  have  loved  and  lost 
Than  never  to  have  loved  at  all." 

TDETTER  because  of  our  happy  memories  of 
^  past  joys;  better  again,  because  our  loss  has 
given  us  a  deeper  understanding  of  what  true  love 
is.  For  love  has  three  stages  of  growth  :  first  and 
most  common  is  the  selfish  love  that  takes ;  sec- 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY.  73 

ond,  the  unselfish  love  that  gives ;  and  third,  and 
highest  of  all,  the  sanctified  love  that  surrenders ; 
—  which  in  pure  self-sacrifice  is  willing  for  the 
higher  good  of  the  loved  one  to  forego  the  joy  of 
its  presence.  This  is  the  holiest  form  of  love,  and 
few  are  they  who  can  attain  it.  Be  it  ours  to 
show  that  higher  love  that  is  willing  to  surrender 
its  dearest,  so  that  He  wills  it. 

CHARLES  W.  WENDTE. 

TCE  breaks  many  a  branch,  and  so  I  see  a  great 
many  persons  bowed  down  and  crushed  by 
their  afflictions.  But  now  and  then  I  meet  one 
that  sings  in  affliction,  and  then  I  thank  God  for 
my  own  sake  as  well  as  his.  There  is  no  such 
sweet  singing  as  a  song  in  the  night.  You  recol- 
lect the  story  of  the  woman  who,  when  her  only 
child  died,  in  rapture  looked  up,  as  with  the  face  of 
an  angel,  and  said,  "  I  give  you  joy,  my  darling." 
That  single  sentence  has  gone  with  me  years  and 
years  down  through  my  life,  quickening  and  com- 
forting me.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 


"P\EATH  :    have   you   ever   wrestled   with    that 
death- sorrow  till  you   know  its  inner  sweet- 
ness?    Sweetness  greater  than  all,  I  would  almost 
say.     The  loss  is  loss.     We  say,  perhaps,  "  It  is 


74  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

their  gain,"  and  wish  to  be  willing.  Our  hurt  gets 
no  relief.  The  days  go  by  and  the  emptiness  is 
as  empty,  and  the  silence  as  silent,  and  the  ache 
as  relentless  in  its  pain.  What  shall  we  do?  Our 
friends  look  on  and  wish  that  they  could  help  us. 
And  they  know  that  help  will  come,  because  to 
their  own  wrestling  it  once  came.  They  know 
that  the  heart  of  this  pain  is  joy  indeed.  And  if 
you  asked  them  how  it  came  about  in  distress  so 
very  sore  as  yours,  their  differing  words  will  prob- 
ably amount  to  this  :  that  such  pain  can  be  stilled 
in  one  way  only,  and  that  is  by  being  more  actively 
unselfed,  by  doing  more  for  others  through  one's 
sadness,  and  trying  hard  to  do  simply  right.  It 
takes  a  wrestle,  yes ;  but  they  will  assure  us  as  a 
simple  inward  fact,  whose  chemistry  they  do  not 
pretend  to  understand,  that  the  inner  wards  of 
helpfulness  and  duty  done  at  such  a  time  deepen 
and  sweeten  into  something  that  almost  seems  a 
new  experience  from  its  exceeding  peace.  It  is 
not  time  making  us  forget,  —  nay,  just  the  oppo- 
site :  we  feel  that  this  new  peace  is  somehow  vi- 
tally connected  with  that  pain;  and  at  last  we 
come  to  think  of  them  and  feel  them  together. 
And  then  we  begin  to  call  it  peace  and  forget  it 
was  pain;  and  by  and  by  the  hour  in  memory 
which  is  our  lingering  place  for  quiet,  happy 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY.  75 

thoughts,  is  the  very  one  which  is  lighted  by  a 
dear,  dead  face.  It  is  our  heaven-spot  ;  and,  like 
the  fair  city  of  the  Apocalypse,  it  hath  no  need  of 
sun,  for  the  glory  of  that  face  doth  lighten  it. 
Perhaps,  as  life  goes  by,  there  will  be  more  than 
one  of  these  green  pastures  with  still  waters  in  our 
inner  life.  And  this  we  shall  then  find  out,  —  that 
each  death-sorrow  is  itself  unique,  because  each 
life  and  love  has  been  unique.  •  And  thus  the  very 
highest  and  deepest  and  holiest  of  our  experiences 
in  some  way  wear  the  likeness  of  those  friends  that 
we  have  lost.  WILLIAM  C.  GANNETT. 


'T^HE  next  best  thing  to  a  great  joy  is  a  great 
•*•  grief.  My  sorrow  is  now  the  root  of  all  that 
any  love  in  me,  the  source  of  all  aspiration,  the 
stimulus  to  all  good.  I  think  I  should  not  fear 
for  any  one  what  is  called  "  selfishness  of  grief." 
If  they  have  loved  a  noble  soul,  that  influence  will 
surely  raise  them  into  sympathy,  in  time.  It  will 
be  sooner  in  some  cases  than  in  others,  but  it  will 
be,  for  love  is  life,  and  bereaved  ones  have  no 
personal  life  any  more,  —  nothing  to  wish  for  them- 
selves ;  they  cannot  choose  but  turn  to  the  life  of 
others.  It  is  one  of  the  most  benignant  laws  of 
this  world  of  ours. 

STORY  OF  WILLIAM  AND  LUCY  SMITH. 


76  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


ABSENCE. 

WHAT  shall  I  do  with  all  the  days  and  hours 
That  must  be  counted  ere  I  see  thy  face  ? 
How  shall  I  charm  the  interval  that  lo'wers 

Between  this  time  and  that  sweet  time  of  grace. 

I  '11  tell  thee  :  for  thy 'sake,  I  will  lay  hold 
Of  all  good  aims,  and  consecrate  to  thee, 

In  worthy  deeds,  each  moment  that  is  told 
While  thou,  beloved  one,  art  far  from  me. 

For  thee,  I  will  arouse  my  thoughts  to  try 

All  heavenward  flights,  all  high  and  holy  strains ; 

For  thy  dear  sake,  I  will  walk  patiently 

Through  these  long  hours,  nor  call  their  minutes 
pains. 

I  will  this  weary  blank  of  absence  make 

A  noble  task-time,  and  will  therein  strive 

To  follow  excellence,  and  to  o'ertake 

More  good  than  I  have  won  since  yet  I  live. 

So  may  this  darksome  time  build  up  in  me 

A  thousand  graces  which  shall  thus  be  thine  ; 

So  may  my  love  and  longing  hallowed  be, 

And  thy  dear  thought  an  influence  divine. 

FRANCES  ANNE  KEMBLE, 


DEATH'S  MINISTRY.  77 


rPHROUGH  all  the  mysteries  of  our  earthly  lot, 
•*"  we  would  feel  ourselves  embosomed  in  the 
Infinite  Strength  and  Peace.  .  .  .  Whether  we  walk 
in  the  morning  light,  or  in  the  night  shadows,  — 
over,  around,  and  beneath  us  are  spread  the 
Everlasting  Arms.  .  .  .  How  strong  is  the  assur- 
ance that  what  is  bound  up  with  our  life,  and 
makes  a  dear  part  of  our  being,  cannot  be  wholly 
lost ;  that  it  must  answer  to  the  love  in  which  it  is 
more  deeply  than  ever  enshrined  !  How  real  be- 
comes the  unseen  world,  no  longer  unfamiliar,  but 
warm  with  the  treasures  and  light  of  home  !  How 
we  look  through  its  half-opened  gates,  into  its  glory 
and  its  peace,  where  the  innocence  and  beauty  of 
childhood  must  dwell  in  the  life  of  which  they  are 
the  image ;  and  the  ties  that  here  seem  broken 
must  be  preserved  in  the  love  that  made  them 
ours ;  and  the  powers  we  would  have  trained  here, 
must  be  unfolded  in  the  same  care  that  inspired 
our  striving,  and  will  not  let  it  be  in  vain. 

Nor  would  we  forget  that  by  this  tranquil  mys- 
tery which  we  call  death,  we  are  brought  the  closer 
to  a  sense  of  an  infinite  calm  of  unchangeable  good 
in  which  we  must  confide ;  on  whose  bosom,  with 
our  beloved  that  have  fallen  asleep  therein,  we  can 
rest,  sure  of  compensations  flowing  from  the  Life 


78  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

that  can  comprehend  the  depth  of  these  affections 
it  has  implanted,  and  the  bitterness  of  earthly  loss. 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 


loving  Care  that  folds  in  our  little  lives, 
how  near  it  comes  when  we  need  it  most ! 
I  feel  as  if  it  held  you  now  in  a  tenderness  such  as 
none  of  us  can  know,  and  none  know  how  to  ask 
for.  "The  night  shall  be  light  about  you,"  calling 
you  to  what  trustlike  sleep,  bringing  out  holy,  eter- 
nal stars.  ...  I  know  that  you  will,  more  than 
ever,  know  how  to  help  the  weak  who  faint  amid 
the  mysteries  of  those  laws  of  life  we  call  death. 
For  only  the  uplifted  face  of  one  who  has  tasted 
these  waters  and  found  them  divine,  can  help  such 
to  faith.  Here  in  the  border  of  the  heavy  loss, 
and  the  change  it  is  so  hard  to  bring  into  the 
daily  ways  of  life,  feel  as  much  as  you  can,  how 
many  hearts  there  are  that  would  come  and  sit 
with  you,  as  near  as  they  may,  with  their  best 
sympathy  and  faith.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 


HE  will  swallow  up   Death  in  Victory.  —  ISAIAH 
xxv.  8. 


IMMORTALITY. 


IMMORTALITY. 

I  AM  the  resurrection,  and  the  life :  he  that  be- 
lieveth  on  me,  though  he  die,  yet  shall  he  live;  and 
whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  on  me  shall  never  die. 

Verily,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  he  that  heareth  my 
word  and  believeth  him  that  sent  me,  hath  eternal  life, 
and  cometh  not  into  condemnation ;  but  hath  passed 
out  of  death  into  life. 

And  exercise  thyself  unto  godliness ;  for  godliness 
is  profitable  for  all  things,  having  promise  of  the  life 
which  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come. 

In  the  way  of  righteousness  is  life ;  and  in  the  path- 
way thereof  there  is  no  death. 


I 


WITH  uncovered  head 

Salute  the  sacred  dead, 
Who  went,  and  who  return  not.     Say  not  so  ! 
'T  is  not  the  grapes  of  Canaan  that  repay, 
But  the  high  faith  that  failed  not  by  the  way ; 
Virtue  treads  paths  that  end  not  in  the  grave ; 
No  bar  of  endless  night  exiles  the  brave  ; 

And  to  the  saner  mind 
We  rather  seem  the  dead  that  stay  behind. 
Blow,  trumpets,  all  your  exultations  blow ! 
6 


82  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

For  never  shall  their  aureoled  presence  lack : 
I  see  them  muster  in  a  gleaming  row, 
With  ever  youthful  brows  that  nobler  show ; 
We  find  in  our  dull  road  their  shining  track ; 

In  every  nobler  mood 
We  feel  the  orient  of  their  spirit  glow, 
Part  of  our  life's  unalterable  good, 
Of  all  our  saintlier  aspiration  ; 

They  come  transfigured  back, 
Secure  from  change  in  their  high-hearted  ways, 
Beautiful  evermore,  and  with  the  rays 
Of  morn  on  their  white  Shields  of  Expectation  ! 

JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


TV  TAN  is  a  creature  of  the  future.  In  no  manner 
^  is  he  simply  a  creature  of  the  day.  The 
moment  does  not  contain  him.  The  curtain  of  the 
night  but  ill  conceals  the  next  dawning.  The 
future  is  veiled  only  dimly;  such  light  strikes 
through,  that  man  cries,  "  Behind  the  veil,  behind 
the  veil !  "  We  are  like  restless  children,  eager 
for  the  sunrise  when  some  fond  anticipation  dis- 
turbs their  sleep.  We  are  men  standing  by  the 
curtained  future,  and  beholding  behind  the  folds, 
like  the  ancient  Jew,  the  mercy-seat  and  the 
cherubim.  SILAS  W.  BUTTON. 


IMMORTALITY.  83 

H^HE  to-morrow  of  death  is  near  because  of  the 
•*•  hopes  that  rest  in  that  to-morrow.  We  live 
another  life  in  our  life.  Thought  and  hope  and 
love  break  through  the  barriers  of  death  and  live 
on  the  further  side.  Aspiration  rises  on  wings  into 
that  realm  beyond  the  barriers.  Man  is  impatient 
of  more  or  fewer  years,  and  while  time  is  a  laggard 
and  death  delays^  leaps  to  mighty  conclusions. 
The  sense  of  immortality  stirs  within  his  breast 
and  makes  him  uneasy  with  a  great  joy.  He 
reflects  how  out  of  dust  and  ashes  aspiration  may 
not  rise  to  transcend  the  truth,  and  how  hope  is  a 
divine  pledge,  and  how  virtue  and  praise  and  love 
and  joy  cannot  die ;  how  every  worthy  and  high 
principle  that  finds  place  in  his  being  allies  him  to 
a  sweet  mystery  and  commanding  Power. 

SILAS  W.  BUTTON. 


'T^HE  curtains  of  yesterday  drop  down,  the 
•*•  curtains  of  to-morrow  roll  up ;  but  yesterday 
and  to-morrow  both  are.  Pierce  through  the 
Time-Element,  glance  into  the  Eternal.  And 
seest  thou  therein  any  glimpse  of  Immortality? 
Is  the  white  tomb  of  our  loved  one,  who  died  from 
our  arms,  and  must  be  left  behind  us  there,  which 
rises  in  the  distance,  like  a  pale,  mournfully 


84  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

receding  milestone,  to  tell  how  many  toilsome, 
uncheered  miles  we  have  journeyed  on  alone, — 
but  a  pale  spectral  illusion?  Is  our  lost  friend 
still  mysteriously  here,  even  as  we  are  here  myste- 
riously, with  God  ?  Know  of  a  truth  that  only  the 
Time-shadows  have  perished,  or  are  perishable ; 
that  the  real  being  of  whatever  was,  and  whatever 
is,  and  whatever  will  be,  is  even  now  and  forever. 

•  THOMAS  CARLYLE. 

TT  is  a  little  thing  in  comparison  to  believe  in 
immortality.     The  great  thing  is  to  live  as  an 
immortal.  JOHN  WEISS. 

"\1 7"E  talk  of  immortality ;  but  there  is  a  better 
phrase  than  that,  —  the  word  of  Jesus, 
"  Eternal  Life."  That  implies  not  mere  duration, 
but  quality.  It  blends  the  present  and  the  future 
in  one.  It  sets  before  us  a  state  into  which  we  are 
called  to  enter  now,  and  into  which  as  we  enter 
we  find  ourselves  at  home  in  our  Father's  house, 
beyond  the  power  of  doubt  and  fear. 

GEORGE  S.  MERRIAM. 

TF  the  cup  of  life  is  full  there  is  little  sense  of 

past  or  future ;  the  present  is   enough.  .  .  . 

When  Christ  speaks  of  Eternal  Life,  he  does  not 


IMMORTALITY.  8$ 

mean  future  endless  existence ;  this  may  be  in- 
volved, but  it  is  an  inference  or  secondary  thought ; 
he  means  instead  fulness  or  perfection  of  life. 

THEODORE  T.  MUNGER. 

TF  I  were  to  construct  one  all-embracing  argu- 
•*•  ment  for  immortality,  and  were  to  put  it  into 
one  word,  it  would  be  —  God.  ...  It  was  Christ's 
realization  of  the  living  God  that  rendered  his  own 
conviction  of  eternal  life  so  absolute. 

THEODORE  T.  MUNOER. 

"\T  TE  must  rest  our  hopes  on  what  is  deepest, 
holiest,  most  divine  within  us;  and  on  the 
life  and  character  and  affirmations  of  those  most 
exalted  specimens  of  our  race  who  have  had  the 
most  unquestioning  faith,  connected  with  the  least 
disturbed,  the  least  fanciful,  and  the  least  irra- 
tional dispositions  and  qualities.  Jesus,  the  calm- 
est, sanest,  purest,  best  of  souls,  the  consummate 
flower  of  humanity,  affirmed  our  personal  immor- 
tality with  undoubting,  unqualified  certainty.  I 
believe  him,  not  chiefly  because  he  rose  from  the 
dead,  but  because  he  was  all  alive,  immortal,  living 
on  principle,  and  for  ends  that  were  eternal,  from 
the  sermon  on  the  mount  to  the  words  from  the 
cross.  I  have  the  witness  in  myself  that  he  was 


86  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

the  Son  of  God ;  his  words  find  my  inmost  heart, 
his  affirmations  evoke  and  clarify  my  own.  "  I 
know  that  my  Redeemer "  —  namely  God,  for 
these  words  were  written  ages  before  Christ  ap- 
peared —  "  liveth,  and  in  the  latter  day  shall  raise 
me  from  the  dead."  Blessed  festival,  that  cele- 
brates a  risen  Saviour  !  Though  the  tomb  had  kept 
thy  ashes,  thy  spirit  could  never  have  been  holden 
of  death  !  If  thou  wert  so  pure  and  instinct  with 
immortality  that  thy  very  dust  was  made  heavenly 
and  flew  to  heaven  with  thy  spirit,  it  shall  not  be 
wholly  incredible  !  But  we  expect  no  such  resurrec- 
tion for  our  dust,  and  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  give 
its  worn  and  devitalized  particles  up  to  the  earth. 
But  thy  resurrection,  thy  spiritual  triumph  over 
death,  the  spiritual  trust  in  the  soul's  superiority  to 
the  mere  material  clothing  it  here  wears,  thy 
abounding  confidence  in  the  eternal  destiny  of  our 
moral  and  rational  nature,  the  sacred  prophecy  of 
our  personality,  the  eternal  unfolding  of  that  bud 
which  can  put  on  its  higher  beauties  only  under 
the  deathly  frost  that  stains  its  leaves  to  heavenly 
gold,  —  this  we  welcome,  this  we  lean  on  with  our 
whole  spiritual  weight,  assured  it  cannot  fail  while 
virtue,  truth,  the  moral  nature  remain,  and  the 
true  and  holy  God  lives  in  the  eternal  now  and  the 
eternal  forever  !  HENRY  W.  BELLOWS. 


IMMORTALITY.  87 

TT  is  indeed  a  faith  which  it  needs  such  as  Jesus 
to  instil.  Those  who  knew  him  took  it  in  and 
made  it  real.  For  us,  we  drink  at  the  same 
fountain.  The  promise  was  not  an  empty  prom- 
ise ;  and  when  the  moment  comes,  when  the 
cloud  opens  and  the  heaven  reveals  itself,  the 
Comforter,  who  is  the  Holy  Spirit,  speaks  to  us. 
It  speaks  to  say  that  the  world  of  God  is  larger 
than  this  world  of  man.  The  Father  of  perfect 
love  is  always  training  us  for  that  larger  life,  and 
those  fuller  powers.  When  he  calls  the  careful 
thinker  who  has  exhausted  earthly  processes,  or  the 
brave  leader  who  has  quickened  a  thousand  thou- 
sand lives,  nay,  the  loving  boy  who  has  shown  me 
what  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is,  and  what  it  is 
like,  or  the  unselfish  mother  whose  life  has  been 
all  made  up  of  help  and  blessing  to  those  around 
her,  —  when  God  lifts  these  into  a  life  unem- 
bodied,  and  therefore  unseen,  he  teaches  me  again 
the  lesson  which  Jesus  was  teaching  always.  Such 
lives  have  larger  sphere  and  duty ;  for  God's  pur- 
pose is  larger  than  these  cramped  places  and  these 
passing  hours.  Who  lives  as  they  have  lived,  and 
with  such  faith  as  their  faith,  these  never  die. 

EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE. 


88  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

"VTES !  earth  grows  the  poorer,  Heaven  seems 
•*•  more  desirable,  when  our  loved  ones  have 
gone  before  into  the  shadowy  land.  Shadowy,  did 
I  say?  Nay  !  here  is  the  shadowy,  there  the  light 
that  blots  out  the  radiance  of  the  sun.  Dark  with 
excess  of  brightness  that  higher  world  is,  because 
our  eyes  are  so  weak,  our  faith  so  dim.  In  this 
ever-changing  world  of  phenomena  we  seem 
shadows  pursuing  shadows,  like  the  rest.  When  we 
reach  that  shore  we  shall  know  that  truth,  which  is 
God's  thought,  and  love,  which  is  his  life,  were  the 
only  real  things  we  had  ever  found.  Will  you  not 
live  more  for  these, — less  for  things  that  perish  in 
the  using?  HENRY  WOODS  FERRIS. 

I  FEEL  the  unutterable  longing, 
Thy  hunger  of  the  heart  is  mine ; 
I  reach  and  grasp  for  hands  in  darkness, 
My  ear  grows  sharp  for  voice  or  sign. 

O  friend,  no  proof  beyond  this  yearning, 

This  outstretch  of  our  hearts,  we  need; 
God  will  not  mock  the  hope  He  giveth, 

No  love  He  prompts  shall  vainly  plead. 

Then  let  us  stretch  our  hands  in  darkness, 
And  call  our  loved  ones  o'er  and  o'er; 

Some  day  their  arms  shall  close  about  us, 
And  the  old  voices  speak  once  more. 

JOHN  GREENI.EAF  WHITTIER 


IMMORTALITY.  89 

I  CANNOT  doubt  that  they  whom  you  deplore 
Are  glorified ;  or  if  they  sleep  shall  wake 
From  sleep,  and  dwell  with  God  in  endless  love. 
Hope  below  this  consists  not  with  belief 
In  mercy,  carried  infinite  degrees 
Beyond  the  tenderness  of  human  hearts : 
Hope  below  this  consists  not  with  belief 
In  perfect  wisdom,  guiding  mightiest  power, 
That  finds  no  limits  but  its  own  pure  will. 

WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH. 

A  N  aureole  signifies  the  artist's  despair.  He 
•^^  paints  his  Madonna  with  his  best  art  and 
choicest  colors.  But  when  he  has  done  all  there 
is  a  lack.  The  spiritual  essence  has  eluded  him ; 
and  in  despair  he  encircles  the  head  with  a  ring  of 
light,  as  if  to  say,  Besides  this  there  was  the  in- 
effable beauty  that  cannot  be  represented  on  can- 
vas. This  ineffable  beauty  is  a  reality,  —  none  the 
less  real  that  it  cannot  be  painted,  and  must  be 
represented  by  the  aureole  about  the  head.  Think- 
ing upon  these  intangible  realities,  thinking  how 
real  are  many  things  we  cannot  touch,  gives  me 
my  clearest  faith  in  immortality.  DAVID  N.  UTTER. 


A  LMOST  any  right  feeling  about  this  present 
*^  life  helps  to  rectify  our  feelings  about  the 
future  life.  All  our  best  moods  feel  immortal. 


go  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Does  ever  a  brave  man  lay  down  his  life,  and  feel 
it  merely  a  mortal  one  ?  I  think  not.  For  the  good 
soul  in  him  will  not  let  itself  be  thought  of  so.  A 
heart  has  only  to  be  noble,  and  of  itself  it  will  fill 
with  faith.  No  martyr  ever  went  the  way  of  duty 
and  felt  the  shadow  of  death  upon  it.  The  shadow 
of  death  is  darkest  in  the  valley,  which  men  walk 
in  easily,  and  is  never  felt  at  all  on  a  steep  place, 
like  Calvary.  Truth  is  everlasting,  and  so  is  every 
lover  of  it ;  and  so  he  feels  himself  almost  always. 
"To  die  is  nothing  to  being  false.  I  feel  death 
like  nothing  at  all ;  and  so  it  is  nothing  in  itself, 
most  likely."  In  battle,  let  it  be  for  his  country 
that  a  man  stands  up ;  and  his  brave,  noble  soul 
makes  him  feel  that  there  is  in  him  a  life,  that  is 
no  more  to  be  touched  by  cannon-balls  than  God 
is,  or  than  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is. 

WILLIAM  MOUNTFORD. 


ATHANASIA. 

THE  ship  may  sink, 
And  I  may  drink 
A  hasty  death  in  the  bitter  sea ; 
But  all  that  I  leave 
In  the  ocean-grave 
Can  be  slipped  and  spared,  and  no  loss  to  me. 


IMMORTALITY.  9 1 

What  care  I, 

Though  falls  the  sky, 
And  the  shrivelling  earth  to  a  cinder  turn  ? 

No  fires  of  doom 

Can  ever  consume 
What  never  was  made  nor  meant  to  burn. 

Let  go  the  breath  ! 

There  is  no  death 
To  the  living  soul,  nor  loss,  nor  harm. 

Not  of  the  clod 

Is  the  life  of  God  : 
Let  it  mount,  as  it  will,  from  form  to  form. 

CHARLES  G.  AMES. 


•p  OCKED  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep, 
-i-V    I  lay  me  down  in  peace  to  sleep  ; 
Secure  I  rest  upon  the  wave, 
For  Thou,  O  Lord  !  hast  power  to  save. 

And  such  the  trust  that  still  were  mine, 
Though  stormy  winds  swept  o'er  the  brine, 
Or  though  the  tempest's  fiery  breath 
Roused  me  from  sleep  to  wreck  and  death. 

For  still  I  know  that  safe  with  Thee 
The  spirit  of  Thy  child  would  be  ; 
And  calm  and  peaceful  is  my  sleep, 
Rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep. 

EMMA  HART  WILLARD. 


92  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

/r"PHE  unresting  floods  move  by  Him  also;  the 
sea  is  His,  and  He  made  it.  I  seem  to  my- 
self more  in  his  hand  than  ever  when  I  drift  in 
that  immensity  where  power  is  almost  tangible, 
and  I  can  feel  the  liftings  and  fallings  with  which, 
as  if  I  were  a  child  in  arms,  He  tends  me.  If  I 
go  down  to  the  depths,  He  will  go  with  me,  and 
instantly  I  shall  be  at  the  land  whither  I  went,  with 
the  face  I  waited  for  shining  suddenly  upon  me. 

What  if  He  say  to  me,  "  Thou  shalt  not  cross 
this  Jordan  "?  It  will  be  that  He  shall  bear  me 
over  into  the  other  Canaan  and  into  the  better 
promise.  MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 


I 


F  my  bark  sink,  't  is  to  another  sea. 

WILLIAM  ELLERY  CHANNINO. 


OIX  feet  of  earth  for  my  body,  and  the  infinite 
^     heaven  for  my  soul,  is  what  I  shall  soon  have. 

ANNE  DU  BOURG 
(at  sight  of  the  scaffold,  and  in  presence  of  his  executioners). 


sorrowing  son  said  to  the  dying  Scotch 
woman,  "  Is  it  dark,  mother?  "      "  Nay,  nay, 
laddie,  it  is  light  on  the  other  side."- 


IMMORTALITY.  93 

TDY  faith  Abraham,  when  he  was  called,  obeyed, 
to  go  out  into  a  place  which  he  was  to  receive 
for  an  inheritance  ;  and  he  went  out,  not  knowing 
whither  he  went.  By  faith  he  became  a  sojourner 
in  the  land  of  promise,  as  in  a  land  not  his  own, 
dwelling  in  tents,  with  Isaac  and  Jacob,  the  heirs 
with  him  of  the  same  promise ;  for  he  looked  for 
the  city  which  hath  the  foundations,  whose  builder 
and  maker  is  God. 

These  all  died  in  faith,  not  having  received  the 
promises,  but  having  seen  them  and  greeted  them 
from  afar,  and  having  confessed  that  they  were 
strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the  earth.  For  they 
that  say  such  things  make  it  manifest  that  they  are 
seeking  after  a  country  of  their  own.  And  if  in- 
deed they  had  been  mindful  of  that  country  from 
which  they  went  out,  they  would  have  had  oppor- 
tunity to  return.  But  now  they  desire  a  better 
country,  that  is,  a  heavenly ;  wherefore  God  is  not 
ashamed  of  them,  to  be  called  their  God ;  for  he 
hath  prepared  for  them  a  city.  HEBREWS  xi. 


He  made  life  —  and  He  takes  it  —  but  instead 
Gives  more;  praise  the  Restorer,  Al-Mu'Mdl 

"E  who  died  at  Azan  sends 
This  to  comfort  faithful  friends. 


H1 


94  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Faithful  friends !  it  lies,  I  know, 
Pale  and  white  and  cold  as  snow; 
And  ye  say,  "  Abdullah 's  dead  !  " 
Weeping  at  my  feet  and  head. 
I  can  see  your  falling  tears, 
I  can  hear  your  cries  and  prayers ; 
Yet  I  smile,  and  whisper  this : 
"  I  am  not  that  thing  you  kiss; 
Cease  your  tears,  and  let  it  lie ; 
It  was  mine,  it  is  not  I." 

Sweet  friends  !  what  the  women  lave, 
For  the  last  sleep  of  the  grave, 
Is  a  tent  which  I  am  quitting, 
Is  a  garment  no  more  fitting, 
Is  a  cage  from  which,  at  last, 
Like  a  bird  my  soul  hath  passed. 
Love  the  inmate,  not  the  room ; 
The  wearer,  not  the  garb ;  the  plume 
Of  the  eagle,  not  the  bars 
Which  kept  him  from  the  splendid  stars. 

Loving  friends  !  be  wise,  and  dry 
Straightway  every  weeping  eye; 
What  ye  lift  upon  the  bier 
Is  not  worth  a  wistful  tear. 
'T  is  an  empty  sea-shell,  one 
Out  of  which  the  pearl  is  gone ; 
The  shell  is  broken,  it  lies  there  ; 
The  pearl,  the  all,  the  soul,  is  here. 
'T  is  an  earthen  jar  whose  lid 
Allah  sealed,  the  while  it  hid 


IMMORTALITY.  95 

That  treasure  of  His  treasury, 
A  mind  which  loved  Him ;  let  it  lie ! 
Let  the  shard  be  earth's  once  more, 
Since  the  gold  shines  in  His  store  ! 

Allah  Mu'hid,  Allah  good  ! 
Now  thy  grace  is  understood  ; 
Now  the  long,  long  darkness  ends, 
Yet  ye  wail,  my  foolish  friends, 
While  the  man  whom  ye  call  "  dead  " 
In  unspoken  bliss  instead 
Lives,  and  loves  you  ;  lost,  't  is  true, 
To  the  light  which  shines  for  you ; 
But  in  light  ye  cannot  see 
Of  unfulfilled  felicity, 
And  enlarging  paradise, 
Lives  the  life  that  never  dies. 

Farewell,  friends  !     Yet  not  farewell ; 
Where  I  am,  ye  too  shall  dwell. 
I  am  gone  before  your  face 
A  heart-beat's  time,  a  gray  ant's  pace. 
When  ye  come  where  I  have  stepped, 
Ye  will  marvel  why  ye  wept, 
Ye  will  know,  by  true  love  taught, 
That  here  is  all,  and  there  is  naught. 
Weep  awhile,  if  ye  are  fain, 
Sunshine  still  must  follow  rain  ! 
Only  not  at  death,  for  death  — 
Now  I  see  —  is  that  first  breath 
Which  our  souls  draw  when  we  enter 
Life,  which  is  of  all  life  centre. 


96  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Know  ye  Allah's  law  is  love, 
Viewed  from  Allah's  Throne  above: 
Be  ye  firm  of  trust,  and  come 
Bravely  onward  to  your  home  ! 
"  La  Allah  ilia  Allah  !    Yea, 
Mu'hid !  Restorer !  Sovereign  ! "  say  ! 

He  who  died  at  Azan  gave 

This  to  those  who  made  his  grave, 

EDWIN  ARNOLD. 

From  the  ARABIC. 


THE  DESERTED   HOUSE. 

LIFE  and  Thought  have  gone  away 
Side  by  side, 

Leaving  door  and  windows  wide : 
Careless  tenants  they ! 

All  within  is  dark  as  night : 
In  the  windows  is  no  light ; 
And  no  murmur  at  the  door, 
So  frequent  on  its  hinge  before. 

Close  the  door,  the  shutters  close, 
Or  thro'  the  windows  we  shall  see 
The  nakedness  and  vacancy 

Of  the  dark  deserted  house. 


IMMORTALITY.  97 

Come  away :  no  more  of  mirth 

Is  here  or  merry-making  sound. 
The  house  was  builded  of  the  earth, 

And  shall  fall  again  to  ground. 

Come  away :  for  Life  and  Thought 
Here  no  longer  dwell ; 

But  in  a  city  glorious  — 
A  great  and  distant  city  —  have  bought 
A  mansion  incorruptible. 
Would  they  could  have  stayed  with  us  ! 

ALFRED  TENNYSON. 

GREEN   PASTURES  AND   STILL  WATERS. 

CLEAR  in  memory's  silent  reaches 
Lie  the  pastures  I  have  seen, 
Greener  than  the  sun-lit  spaces 

Where  the  May  has  flung  her  green : 
Needs  no  sun  and  needs  no  starlight 

To  illume  these  fields  of  mine, 
For  the  glory  of  dead  faces 

Is  the  sun,  the  stars,  that  shine. 

More  than  one  I  count  my  pastures 

As  my  life-path  groweth  long ; 
By  their  quiet  waters  straying 

Oft  I  lay  me,  and  am  strong. 
And  I  call  each  by  its  giver, 

And  the  dear  names  bring  to  them 
Glory  as  from  shining  faces 

In  some  New  Jerusalem. 
7 


98  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Yet,  O  well  I  can  remember, 

Once  I  called  my  pastures,  Pain, 
And  their  waters  were  a  torrent 

Sweeping  through  my  life  amain  ! 
Now  I  call  them  Peace  and  Stillness, 

Brightness  of  all  Happy  Thought, 
Where  I  linger  for  a  blessing 

From  my  faces  that  are  nought. 

Nought  ?     I  fear  not.     If  the  Power 

Maketh  thus  his  pastures  green, 
Maketh  thus  his  quiet  waters, 

Out  of  waste  his  heavens  serene, 
I  can  trust  the  mighty  Shepherd 

Loseth  none  he  ever  led ; 
Somewhere  yet  a  greeting  waits  me 

On  the  faces  of  my  dead ! 

WILLIAM  C.  GANNETT. 


MY  DEAD. 

I  CANNOT  think  of  them  as  dead 
Who. walk  with  me  no  more ; 
Along  the  path  of  life  I  tread 
They  have  but  gone  before. 

The  Father's  house  is  mansioned  fair 

Beyond  my  vision  dim  ; 
All  souls  are  his,  and  here  or  there 

Are  living  unto  him. 


IMMORTALITY.  99 

And  still  their  silent  ministry 

Within  my  heart  hath  place, 
As  when  on  earth  they  walked  with  me 

And  met  me  face  to  face. 

Their  lives  are  made  forever  mine ; 

What  they  to  me  have  been 
Hath  left  henceforth  its  seal  and  sign 

Engraven  deep  within. 

Mine  are  they  by  an  ownership 

Nor  time  nor  death  can  free  ; 
For  God  hath  given  to  Love  to  keep 

Its  own  eternally. 

FREDERICK  L.  HOSMER. 


A  REQUIEM. 

INTO  the  eternal  shadow 
That  girds  our  life  around, 
Into  the  infinite  silence 

Wherewith  Death's  shore  is  bound, 
Thou  hast  gone  forth,  beloved ! 
And  I  were  mean  to  weep, 
That  thou  hast  left  Life's  shadows, 
And  dost  possess  the  Deep. 

Now  I  can  see  thee  clearly; 

The  dusky  cloud  of  clay, 
That  hid  thy  starry  spirit, 

Is  rent  and  blown  away : 


100  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

To  earth  I  give  thy  body, 

Thy  spirit  to  the  sky, 
I  saw  its  bright  wings  growing, 

And  knew  that  thou  must  fly. 

Now  I  can  love  thee  truly, 

For  nothing  comes  between 
The  senses  and  the  spirit, 

The  seen  and  the  unseen  ; 
Lifts  the  eternal  shadow, 

The  silence  bursts  apart, 
And  the  soul's  boundless  future 

Is  present  in  my  heart. 

JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


I 


SHALL  clasp  thee  again,  O  soul  of  my  soul, 
And  with  God  be  the  rest. 

ROBERT  BROWNING. 


AND,  O  beloved  voices,  upon  which 
Ours  passionately  call,  because  erelong 
Ye  brake  off  in  the  middle  of  that  song 
We  sang  together  softly,  to  enrich 
The  poor  world  with  the  sense  of  love,  and  witch 
The  heart  out  of  things  evil  —  I  am  strong, 
Knowing  ye  are  not  lost  for  aye.  .  .  . 

God  keeps  a  niche 

In  heaven  to  hold  our  idols :  and  albeit 
He  brake  them  to  our  faces,  and  denied 
That  our  close  kisses  should  impair  their  white  — 


IMMOR  TALITY.  I O I 

I  know  we  shall  behold  them  raised,  complete, 
The  dust  swept  from  their  beauty,  — glorified 
New  Memnons  singing  in  the  great  God-light. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 

GOD  does  not  send  us  strange  flowers  every  year. 
When  the  spring  blows  o'er  the  pleasant  places 
The  same  dear  things  lift  up  the  same  fair  faces ; 
The  violet  is  here. 

It  all  comes  back,  —  the  odor,  grace,  and  hue ; 

Each  sweet  relation  of  its  life  repeated ; 

No  blank  is  left ;  no  looking  for  is  cheated ; 
It  is  the  thing  we  knew. 

So  after  the  death-winter  it  must  be 

God  will  not  put  strange  signs  in  the  heavenly 

places ; 

The  old  love  shall  look  out  from  the  old  faces. 
Veilchen !  I  shall  have  thee ! 

MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 


I 


S  it  well  with  the  child  ?    And  she  answered,  It 
is  well.  2  KINGS  iv.  26. 


A  GREATER  love  than  yours  watched  over  him 
•^  and  has  taken  him  away.  Why  he  was 
taken  in  the  dawn  of  his  being  we  cannot  tell. 
The  secrets  of  that  world  into  which  he  has  en- 
tered can  alone  explain  it.  Our  world  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  intended  for  the  education  of 


IO2  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

all.  To  many  it  is  only  a  birthplace.  They  are 
born  to  be  translated,  to  receive  their  education 
elsewhere.  Can  we  not  trust  our  loving  Father 
to  choose  the  place  where  his  children  shall  be 
trained?  Is  it  not  enough  that  they  are  in  his 
hands?  WILLIAM  ELLERY  CHANNING. 

LIFTED   OVER. 

AS  tender  mothers  guiding  baby  steps, 
Where  places  come  at  which  the  tiny  feet 
Would  trip,  lift  up  the  little  ones  in  arms 
Of  love,  and  set  them  down  beyond  the  harm, 
So  did  our  Father  watch  the  precious  boy, 
Led  o'er  the  stones  by  me,  who  stumbled  oft 
Myself,  but  strove  to  help  my  darling  on : 
He  saw  the  sweet  limbs  faltering,  and  saw 
Rough  ways  before  us,  where  my  arms  would  fail ; 
So  reached  from  heaven,  and  lifting  the  dear  child, 
Who  smiled  in  leaving  me,  he  put  him  down, 
Beyond  all  hurt,  beyond  my  sight,  and  bade 
Him  wait  for  me  !     Shall  I  not  then  be  glad, 

And,  thanking  God,  press  on  to  overtake  ? 

H.  H. 

SADNESS   AND   GLADNESS. 

'T^HERE  was  a  glory  in  my  house, 
JL  And  it  is  fled ; 

There  was  a  baby  at  my  heart, 
And  it  is  dead. 


IMMORTALITY.  103 

And  when  I  sit  and  think  of  him, 

I  am  so  sad, 
That  half  it  seems  that  never  more 

Can  I  be  glad. 

If  you  had  known  this  baby  mine, 

He  was  so  sweet 
You  would  have  gone  a  journey  just 

To  kiss  his  feet. 

You  cannot  think  how  many  things 

He  learned  to  know 
Before  the  swift,  swift  angel  came, 

And  bade  him  go. 

But  should  you  ask  me  how  it  is 

That  yours  can  stay, 
Though  mine  must  spread  his  little  wings 

And  fly  away, 

I  could  but  say  that  God,  who  made 

This  heart  of  mine, 
Must  have  intended  that  its  love 

Should  be  the  sign 

Of  His  own  love  ;  and  that  if  He 

Can  think  it  right 
To  turn  my  joy  to  sorrow,  and 

My  day  to  night, 

I  cannot  doubt  that  He  will  turn, 

In  other  ways, 
My  winter  darkness  to  the  light 

Of  summer  days. 


IO4  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

I  know  that  God  gives  nothing  to 

Us  for  a  day ; 
That  what  He  gives  He  never  cares 

To  take  away. 

And  when  He  comes  and  seems  to  make 

Our  glory  less, 
It  is  that,  by  and  by,  we  may 

The  more  confess 

That  He  has  made  it  brighter  than 

It  was  before,  — 
A  glory  shining  on  and  on 

For  evermore. 

And  when  I  sit  and  think  of  this, 

I  am  so  glad, 
That  half  it  seems  that  never  more 

Can  I  be  sad. 

JOHN  W-  CHADWICK. 

OD  lent  him  and  takes  him,"  you  sigh  ! 

Nay,  there  let  me  break  with  your  pain  ; 
God 's  generous  in  giving,  say  I  — 
And  the  thing  which  He  gives,  I  deny 
That  He  ever  can  take  back  again. 

He 's  ours  and  forever.    Believe, 

O  father  !  —  O  mother,  look  back 
To  the  first  love's  assurance.     To  give 
Means  with  God  not  to  tempt  or  deceive 
With  a  cup  thrust  in  Benjamin's  sack. 


IMMORTALITY.  10$ 

He  gives  what  He  gives.    Be  content! 

He  resumes  nothing  given  —  be  sure  ! 
God  lend  ?    Where  the  usurers  lent 
In  His  temple,  indignant  He  went 

And  scourged  away  all  those  impure. 

He  lends  not ;  but  gives  to  the  end, 
As  He  loves  to  the  end.    Jf  it  seem 

That  He  draws  back  a  gift,  comprehend 

'T  is  to  add  to  it  rather  —  amend, 
And  finish  it  up  to  your  dream ;  — 

Or  keep,  — as  a  mother  may  toys 

Too  costly,  though  given  by  herself, 
Till  the  room  shall  be  stiller  from  noise, 
And  the  children  more  fit  for  such  joys, 
Kept  over  their  heads  on  the  shelf. 

So  look  up,  friends !  you,  who  indeed 

Have  possessed  in  your  house  a  sweet  piece 
Of  the  Heaven  which  men  strive  for,  must  need 
Be  more  earnest  than  others  are  —  speed 
Where  they  loiter,  persist  where  they  cease. 

You  know  how  one  angel  smiles  there. 

Then  courage  !     'T  is  easy  for  you 
To  be  drawn  by  a  single  gold  hair 
Of  that  curl,  from  earth's  storm  and  despair 

To  the  safe  place  above  us.    Adieu. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 


IO6  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


THE  ALPINE   SHEEP. 

WHEN  on  my  ear  your  loss  was  knelled, 
And  tender  sympathy  upburst, 
A  little  spring  from  memory  welled 

Which  once  had  quenched  my  bitter  thirst; 

And  I  was  fain  to  bear  to  you 

A  portion  of  its  mild  relief, 
That  it  might  be  as  cooling  dew 

To  steal  some  fever  from  your  grief. 

After  our  child's  untroubled  breath 

Up  to  the  Father  took  its  way, 
And  on  our  home  the  shade  of  death 

Like  a  long  twilight  haunting  lay, 

And  friends  came  round  with  us  to  weep 

The  little  spirit's  swift  remove  — 
This  story  of  the  Alpine  sheep 

Was  told  to  us  by  one  we  love. 

They,  in  the  valley's  sheltering  care, 
Soon  crop  their  meadow's  tender  prime, 

And  when  the  sod  grows  brown  and  bare, 
The  shepherd  strives  to  make  them  climb 

To  airy  shelves  of  pasture  green 
That  hang  along  the  mountain  side, 

Where  grass  and  flowers  together  lean, 

And  down  through  mists  the  sunbeams  glide. 


IMMORTALITY.  1 07 

But  nought  can  lure  the  timid  things 
The  steep  and  rugged  path  to  try ; 

Though  sweet  the  shepherd  calls  and  sings, 
And  seared  below  the  pastures  lie ;  — 

Till  in  his  arms  their  lambs  he  takes, 

Along  the  dizzy  verge  to  go, 
When,  heedless  of  the  rifts  and  breaks, 

They  follow  on  o'er  rock  and  snow. 

And  in  those  pastures  lifted  fair, 
More  dewy  soft  than  lowland  mead, 

The  shepherd  drops  his  tender  care, 
And  sheep  and  lambs  together  feed. 

This  parable  by  nature  breathed, 
Blew  on  me  as  the  south  wind  free 

O'er  frozen  brooks  that  float  unsheathed 
From  icy  thraldom  to  the  sea. 

A  blissful  vision  through  the  night 
Would  all  my  happy  senses  sway, 

Of  the  good  shepherd  on  the  height, 
Or  climbing  up  the  starry  way, 

Holding  our  little  lamb  asleep  — 

And  like  the  burden  of  the  sea 
Sounded  that  voice  along  the  deep, 

Saying,  "  Arise,  and  follow  me  !  " 

MARIA  WHITE  LOWELL. 


IO8  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 


A  YEAR  IN   HEAVEN. 

AYE  AR  in  heaven  for  her,  —  what  is  she  learning 
Of  holy  things,  of  things  divine  and  true  ? 
What  glorious  visions  there  are  still  unfolding 
Which  here  she  never  knew  ? 

Did  angel  friends  await  her  at  her  coming? 
Did  angel  faces  greet  her  with  a  smile  ? 
Were  all  the  dear  ones  eager  to  receive  her 
Whom  she  had  lost  awhile? 

And  has  she  seen  the  loving,  blessed  Jesus, 
Sat  at  his  feet  or  felt  his  fond  embrace  ? 
Or  even  can  it  be  that  she  is  able 
To  see  the  Father's  face  ? 

A  year  on  earth  for  us  without  her  presence,  — 
A  year  of  loneliness  and  grief  and  pain ; 
But  still  we  smile  amid  our  tears,  in  thinking 
Our  loss  is  but  her  gain. 

We  miss  her  in  our  joys  and  in  our  sorrows  : 
She  was  our  life,  our  centre,  and  our  sun. 
And  yet  we  would  not  call  her  back,  but  whisper, 
"  O  God,  thy  will  be  done ! " 

A  year  in  heaven  for  her,  of  rest  and  blessing : 

For  us  a  year  on  earth,  with  her  above. 

But  heaven  and  earth  are  both  together  blending, 

And  over  all  is  Love  ! 

M.  L.  D. 


IMMOR  TALITY.  \  09 


THE   GATHERING  PLACE. 

I  KNOW  not  where,  beneath,  above, 
The  gathering  place  so  wonderful, 
But  all  who  fill  our  life  with  love, 

Go  forth  to  make  it  beautiful. 
Oh,  rich  with  all  the  wealth  of  grace, 
Oh,  bright  with  many  a  holy  face, 
Is  that  exalted  meeting  place. 

With  passing  months  it  comes  more  near, 

It  grows  more  real  day  by  day ; 
Not  strange  or  cold,  but  very  dear, 

The  glad  home-land  not  far  away ! 
Where  no  sea  toucheth,  making  moan, 
Where  none  are  poor,  or  sick,  or  lone, 
The  place  where  we  shall  find  our  own. 

And  as  we  think  of  all  we  knew, 

Who  there  have  met,  and  part  no  more, 
Our  longing  hearts  desire  home,  too, 
With  all  the  strife  and  trouble  o'er. 
So  poor  this  world,  now  they  have  gone, 
We  scarcely  dare  to  think  upon 
The  years  before  our  rest  is  won. 

And  yet  our  Father  knoweth  best, 
The  joy  or  sadness  that  we  need, 

The  time  when  we  may  take  our  rest 
And  be  from  sin  and  sorrow  freed. 


IIO  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

So  we  will  wait  with  patient  grace, 
Till  in  that  blessed  gathering  place, 
We  meet  our  friends  and  see  His  face. 

ANON. 


I  LONG  for  household  voices  gone, 
For  vanished  smiles  I  long, 
But  God  hath  led  my  dear  ones  on, 
And  he  can  do  no  wrong. 

I  know  not  what  the  future  hath 

Of  marvel  or  surprise, 
Assured  alone  that  life  and  death 

His  mercy  underlies. 

And  if  my  heart  and  flesh  are  weak 

To  bear  an  untried  pain, 
The  bruised  reed  He  will  not  break, 

But  strengthen  and  sustain. 

And  so  beside  the  Silent  Sea 

I  wait  the  muffled  oar ; 
No  harm  from  Him  can  come  to  me 

On  ocean  or  on  shore. 

I  know  not  where  His  islands  lift 

Their  fronded  palms  in  air ; 
I  only  know  I  cannot  drift 

Beyond  His  love  and  care. 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTTER. 


IMMOR  TALITY.  1 1 1 


WHAT  is  there  beyond ? 
Hear  what  the  wise  and  good  have  said.   Beyond 
That  belt  of  darkness,  still  the  Years  roll  on 
More  gently,  but  with  not  less  mighty  sweep. 
They  gather  up  again  and  softly  bear 
All  the  sweet  lives  that  late  were  overwhelmed 
And  lost  to  sight,  all  that  in  them  was  good, 
Noble,  and  truly  great,  and  worthy  of  love  — 
The  lives  of  infants  and  ingenuous  youths, 
Sages,  and  saintly  women  who  have  made 
Their  households  happy ;  all  are  raised  and  borne 
By  that  great  current  in  its  onward  sweep, 
Wandering  and  rippling  with  caressing  waves 
Around  green  islands  with  the  breath 
Of  flowers  that  never  wither.     So  they  pass 
From  stage  to  stage  along  the  shining  course 
Of  that  bright  river,  broadening  like  a  sea. 
As  its  smooth  eddies  curl  along  their  way 
They  bring  old  friends  together ;  hands  are  clasped 
In  joy  unspeakable  ;  the  mother's  arms 
Again  are  folded  round  the  child  she  loved 
And  lost.     Old  sorrows  are  forgotten  now, 
Or  but  remembered  to  make  sweet  the  hour 
That  overpays  them  ;  wounded  hearts  that  bled 
Or  broke  are  healed  forever.     In  the  room 
Of  this  grief-shadowed  present,  there  shall  be 
A  Present  in  whose  reign  no  grief  shall  gnaw 
The  heart,  and  never  shall  a  tender  tie 


112  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Be  broken ;  in  whose  reign  the  eternal  Change 
That  waits  on  growth  and  action  shall  proceed 
With  everlasting  Concord  hand  in  hand. 

WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 


NO  seas  again  shall  sever, 
No  desert  intervene, 
No  deep  sad-flowing  river 

Shall  roll  its  tide  between. 
Love  and  unsevered  union 

Of  soul  with  those  we  love, 
Nearness  and  glad  communion, 
Shall  be  our  joy  above. 

No  dread  of  wasting  sickness, 

No  thought  of  ache  or  pain, 
No  weary  hours  of  weakness, 

Shall  mar  our  peace  again. 
No  death,  our  homes  o'ershading, 

Shall  e'er  our  harps  unstring  ; 
For  all  is  life  unfading 

In  presence  of  our  King. 

HORATIUS   BONAR. 


TN  what  body  do  they  come?  not  in  the  body  of 

flesh  and  blood.     Rather  is  it  reasonable  to 

suppose  that,  as  there  is  a  natural  body  and  also  a 

spiritual  body,  so  the  latter,  or  its  immortal  germ, 


IMMOR  TALITY.  1 1 3 

is  even  now  tabernacling  in  the  former ;  and  that 
at  death  it  is  disengaged  from  its  companion  clay, 
and  stands  forth  at  once  unharmed  by  fire  or 
sword,  by  accident  or  disease,  its  texture  and 
organization  finer  and  more  delicate  than  we  can 
now  conceive.  And  this  is  the  resurrection.  Nor 
in  the  "  house  from  heaven  "  with  which  the  soul 
is  thus  "  clothed  upon,"  does  it  lose  for  a  moment 
its  sure  identity.  Character  gives  to  these  earthly 
lineaments  its  own  appropriate  moral  expression. 
More  fully  yet  shall  it  shine  through  and  reveal 
itself  in  the  spiritual  countenance. 

ALFRED  P.  PUTNAM. 


T  ET  not  your  heart  be  troubled ;  ye  believe  in 
God,  believe  also  in  me.  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions;  if  it  were  not  so,  I 
would  have  told  you ;  for  I  go  to  prepare  a  place 
for  you.  And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you, 
I  come  again,  and  will  receive  you  unto  myself; 
that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also. 

Peace  I  leave  with  you ;  my  peace  I  give  unto 
you :  not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you. 
Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be 
afraid. 

If  ye  loved  me  ye  would  have  rejoiced,  because 
I  go  unto  the  Father. 

8 


1 14  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Ye  now  have  sorrow :  but  I  will  see  you  again, 
and  your  heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  one 
taketh  away  from  you. 

These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  in 
me  ye  may  have  peace.  JESUS. 


OH,  for  the  peace  that  floweth  as  a  river, 
Making  life's  desert  places  bloom  and  smile ; 
Oh,  for  that  faith  to  grasp  the  glad  Forever, 
Amid  the  shadows  of  earth's  little  while  ! 

A  little  while  for  patient  vigil  keeping, 
To  face  the  storm,  to  wrestle  with  the  strong; 

A  little  while  to  sow  the  seed  with  weeping, 

Then  bind  the  sheaves  and  sing  the  harvest  song ; 

A  little  while  to  wear  the  veil  of  sadness, 
To  toil  with  weary  step  through  miry  ways, 

Then  to  pour  forth  the  fragrant  oil  of  gladness, 
And  clasp  the  girdle  round  the  robe  of  Praise  ; 

A  little  while,  'mid  shadow  and  illusion, 
To  strive  by  faith  love's  mysteries  to  spell, 

Then  read  each  dark  enigma's  bright  solution, 
Then  hail  sight's  verdict,  —  He  doth  all  things  well ; 

A  little  while  the  earthen  pitcher  taking 

To  wayside  brooks,  from  far-off  mountains  fed, 

Then  the  cool  lip  its  thirst  forever  slaking 
Beside  the  fulness  of  the  Fountain-head  ; 


IMMOR  TALITY.  1 1 5 

A  little  while  to  keep  the  oil  from  failing, 
A  little  while  faith's  flickering  lamp  to  trim, 

And  then  the  Bridegroom's  coming  footsteps  hailing, 
To  haste  to  meet  him  with  the  bridal  hymn. 

And  he  who  is  himself  the  Gift  and  Giver, 
The  future  glory,  and  the  present  smile, 

With  the  bright  promise  of  the  glad  Forever 
Will  light  the  shadows  of  earth's  little  while. 

HORATIUS  BONAR. 


COME  to  me,  thoughts  of  heaven, 
My  fainting  spirit  bear 
On  your  bright  wings,  by  morning  given, 
Up  to  celestial  air. 

Away,  far,  far  away, 
From  thoughts  by  passion  given, 
Fold  me  in  blue,  still,  cloudless  day, 
O  blessed  thoughts  of  heaven ! 

Come  in  my  tempted  hour, 
Sweet  thoughts,  and  yet  again 
O'er  sinful  wish  and  memory  shower 
Your  soft,  effacing  rain ; 

Waft  me  where  gales  divine 
With  dark  clouds  ne'er  have  striven, 
Where  living  founts  forever  shine, 
O  blessed  thoughts  of  heaven  ! 

FELICIA  D.  HEMANS 


Il6  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


1    RAISE 

The  song  of  thanks  and  praise 
For  those  obstinate  questionings 
Of  sense  and  outward  things, 
Fallings  from  us,  vanishings ; 
Blank  misgivings  of  a  creature 
Moving  about  in  worlds  not  realized, 
High  instincts,  before  which  our  mortal  nature 
Did  tremble,  like  a  guilty  thing  surprised  ! 
For  those  rich  affections, 
Those  shadowy  intimations, 

Which,  be  they  what  they  may, 
Are  yet  the  fountain  light  of  all  our  day, 
Are  yet  a  master  light  of  all  our  seeing ; 

Uphold  us  —  cherish  —  and  have  power  to  make 
Our  noisy  years  seem  moments  in  the  being 
Of  the  eternal  silence  :  truths  that  wake, 

To  perish  never ; 
Which  neither  listlessness,  nor  mad  endeavor, 

Nor  man  nor  boy, 
Nor  all  that  is  at  enmity  with  joy, 
Can  utterly  abolish  or  destroy  ! 

Hence,  in  a  season  of  calm  weather, 

Though  inland  far  we  be, 
Our  souls  have  sight  of  that  immortal  sea 

Which  brought  us  hither; 
Can  in  a  moment  travel  thither,  — 
And  see  the  children  sport  upon  the  shore, 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore. 


IMMORTALITY.  1 1 7 

Thanks  to  the  human  heart  by  which  we  live ; 
Thanks  to  its  tenderness,  its  joys,  and  fears ; 
To  me  the  meanest  flower  that  blows  can  give 
Thoughts  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears. 

WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH. 


"DEHOLD  what  manner  of  love  the  Father  hath 
•^  bestowed  upon  us,  that  we  should  be  called 
children  of  God. 

I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  with  thy 
likeness. 

Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  have 
entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which 
God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him. 


NEED  it  is  we  raise  our  eyes 
Up  from  earth  towards  the  skies  ; 
Thinking  of  the  souls  that  rest 
In  the  mansions  of  the  blest ; 
Lest  we  faint  in  our  distress, 
Through  exceeding  heaviness. 

Thee  in  them,  O  Lord  most  high, 
Them  in  Thee  we  glorify : 
Noble  athletes,  that  went  home 
Through  the  sea  of  martyrdom ; 
And  the  saints,  through  toil  and  shame 
Brave  confessors  of  thy  name. 


Il8  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Glory,  Lord,  to  Thee  alone, 
Who  hast  glorified  thine  own ; 
For  their  zeal,  their  truth,  their  sighs, 
Prayerful  hearts  and  tearful  eyes, 
Faithful  lips  and  fearless  breast, 
Love  and  beauty,  toils  and  rest ! 

Let  their  praises,  heavenly  King, 
Let  the  blessed  hymn  they  sing, 
Some,  though  faintest,  echo  gain 
In  our  own  poor  broken  strain; 
Till  one  day  shall  join  all  powers 
In  one  anthem,  —  theirs  and  ours. 

JOHN  MASON  NEALE. 

FOR  all  the  saints,  who  from  their  labors  rest, 
Who  thee  by  faith  before  the  world  confessed, 
Thy  name,  O  God,  shall  be  forever  blessed. 

Thou  wast    their    Rock,  their    Fortress,   and    their 

Might ; 

Their  Strength  and  Shield  in  all  the  well-fought  fight ; 
Thou,  in  the  darkness,  still  the  Light  of  light. 

O  blest  Communion,  fellowship  divine! 
We  feebly  struggle,  they  in  glory  shine  ; 
Yet  all  are  one  in  Thee,  for  all  are  Thine. 

WILLIAM  WALSHAM  How 


IMMOR  TALITY.  1 1 9 


QOMETIME  and  Somewhere  shall  we  walk 
O     Clear  of  earth  in  high  places  ; 
Sometime  and  somewhere  shall  we  talk 
With  our  hearts  in  our  faces  ; 

And  see  all  the  meaning  writ  clear, 

The  depth  and  the  sweetness, 
Apart  from  this  doubt  and  this  fear, 

This  sad  incompleteness. 

NORA  PERRY. 


WHAT  is  excellent, 
As  God  lives,  is  permanent ; 
Hearts  are  dust,  hearts'  loves  remain ; 
Heart's  love  will  meet  thee  again. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

OF  those  whom  thou  hast  given  me  I  have  not  lost 

one. 

JESUS. 


THE   FAMILY  ON  EARTH  AND  IN 
HEAVEN. 


THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH  AND  IN 
HEAVEN. 

Lo  !  at  length  the  True  Light,  —  light  for  every  man 
born  into  the  world ;  kindling  the  faces  of  them  that 
receive  it,  till  they  become  the  sons  of  God. 

No  longer  is  the  dwelling  of  Eternal  Life  too  bright 
above,  and  the  perishable  world  too  dark  below.  Thou 
hast  made  one  family,  there  and  here  ;  one  living  com- 
munion of  seen  and  unseen.  CANTICLES. 

Lo  !  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world. 

Where  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my 
name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them.  JESUS. 


T  THINK  we  do  not  begin  to  realize  as  we  ought 
what  ministries  cluster  round  our  life,  to  aid 
us  in  being  what  we  may  be,  —  angels,  angels, 
every  one,  thick  about  us  every  day,  bearing  us  in 
their  hands,  and  lifting  us  up  when  we  are  fallen. 
Their  faces  gladden  us  when  we  do  well,  and  grow 
very  sad  at  us  when  we  sin.  Ay,  and  in  some  way 


124  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 

those  that  we  think  of  and  speak  of  as  in  heaven 
love  us  still  with  all  the  old  love  of  earth  and  all 
the  new  love  of  heaven  together.  So,  because 
they  love  us  still,  we  are  still  one,  our  souls  are  in 
theirs  and  they  in  ours.  We  touch  hands  in  spirit, 
and  the  light  that  is  not  the  light  of  the  sun  covers 
and  enfolds  us  all.  ROBERT  COLLYER. 


IV  TAN,  in  the  great  plan  of  Providence,  is  not 
•*•'•*•  transferred  from  one  sphere  of  being  into 
another.  Rather  is  he  brought  into  conscious  re- 
lations to  a  higher  and  yet  higher  sphere,  by  the 
successive  development  of  his  original  powers. 
.  .  .  The  spiritual  world  is  not  a  realm  far  off  in 
space,  into  which  we  shall  be  introduced  by  the 
event  of  death.  Rather  is  it  that  order  of  being 
of  which  we  are  to  have  cognizance  by  the  powers 
that  already  wait  within  us,  and  death  will  not  so 
much  remove  us,  as  remove  from  us  the  obstruc- 
tions that  closed  us  in  from  its  unseen  illumina- 
tions. .  .  .  Was  the  spot  where  the  patriarch  slept 
indeed  more  holy  than  other  places,  and  was  the 
bush  of  Moses  the  only  symbol  of  angelic  ministra- 
tions ?  Or  rather  could  we  see  as  they  saw,  would 
not  every  spot  be  holy,  and  all  nature  seem  aglow 
with  those  activities  which  run  from  the  spiritual 


AND  IN  HEAVEN. 

world  into  the  natural?  Was  the  Saviour  of  men 
an  example  in  temptation  only,  or  was  he  not 
also  our  example  in  victory,  revealing  unto  us 
those  heavenly  auxiliaries  that  work  with  us  and 
strengthen  us  as  we  toil  up  the  hill  of  Difficulty 
toward  the  regions  of  Peace  ?  And  on  the  mount 
of  transfiguration,  was  the  change  in  him,  so  that 
he  appeared  as  never  before,  or  was  it  in  his  dis- 
ciples, so  that  they  saw  him  as  he  always  had  been, 
living  in  two  worlds,  walking  on  the  earth,  and  yet 
"  the  son  of  man  who  is  in  heaven,"  talking  with 
men,  yet  holding  converse  with  the  skies  ? 

Man  could  not  be  the  subject  of  such  revela- 
tions unless  already  he  lived  within  the  precincts 
of  the  mystic  world,  and  had  a  faculty  within  him 
to  be  acted  upon  by  its  essential  laws.  These  con- 
cealments of  matter  which  engird  us  are  therefore 
but  frail  walls  that  shut  us  in,  which,  falling  down, 
give  us  sight  of  those  higher  skies  that  arch  over 
us,  and  those  brighter  fields  that  lie  around  us  trod- 
den by  the  feet  of  angels,  and  over  which  breathe 
the  airs  of  celestial  love.  EDMUND  H.  SEARS. 


are  many  sayings  of  Jesus,  and  inci- 
•*•  dents  in  his  life,  which  imply  the  intimate 
communion  of  the  dead  with  the  living.  One  of 
the  most  striking  features  of  his  life  is  the  fre- 


126  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 

quency  and  nearness  of  his  converse  with  the 
spiritual  world.  He  never  speaks  of  angels  and 
just  men  made  perfect  as  if  there  were  a  weary 
distance  to  be  crossed  from  them  to  us  or  from  us 
to  them.  They  are  often  with  him,  —  at  his  birth, 
in  his  temptation,  and  in  his  agony;  they  come 
uncalled,  they  watch  by  his  sepulchre,  and  wait  on 
his  ascension.  The  spirits  of  the  long-dead  talk 
with  him  on  the  mountain.  His  voice  to  the 
widow's  son,  his  powerful  word  at  the  tomb  of 
Lazarus,  seem  addressed  to  souls  not  afar  off,  but 
within  call,  —  near  the  scenes  from  which  they 
had  gone,  and  among  the  friends  who  thought 
them  lost  forever.  He  promises  also  his  own 
spiritual  presence  with  his  followers,  when  he  shall 
no  longer  be  visible  to  the  outward  eye. 

ANDREW  P.  PEABODY. 

T  LOVE  to  look  on  the  transfiguration,  and  on 
•*•  similar  scenes  in  our  Saviour's  pilgrimage,  as 
but  revelations,  manifestations  of  the  spiritual  life, 
which  in  numberless  forms  perpetually  surrounds 
us.  Heaven,  I  believe,  is  not  afar  off,  but  un- 
speakably near,  compassing  our  homes,  encircling 
our  daily  ways.  There  is  no  doubt  constantly 
about  us  a  cloud  of  unseen  spirits,  —  the  hosts  of 
God  encamp  around  our  dwellings,  —  strains  of 


AND  IN  HEAVEN".  I2/ 

celestial  praise,  such  as  hailed  the  Saviour's  birth, 
are  always  borne,  though  unheard,  on  our  night 
air,  — 

"  Millions  of  spiritual  creatures  walk  the  earth 
Unseen,  both  when  we  wake  and  when  we  sleep." 

It  was  no  rare  thing,  though  an  amazing  sight, 
when  Elisha  beheld  angelic  hosts  drawn  out  for  his 
defence.  Nor  had  the  hills  of  Judea  grown  un- 
familiar to  Moses  and  Elijah,  who  on  the  mount 
"  appeared  in  glory."  The  whole  tenor  of  Scrip- 
ture brings  the  two  worlds  together,  makes  us  feel 
that  they  are  as  one  world,  —  that  our  departed 
friends,  and  the  wise  and  holy  of  all  times,  may  be 
around  us  and  with  us.  ANDREW  P.  PEABODY. 


T>E  of  comfort !  Thou  art  not  alone  if  thou 
have  faith.  Spake  we  not  of  a  Communion 
of  Saints,  unseen,  yet  not  unreal,  accompanying 
and  brother-like  embracing  thee,  so  thou  be 
worthy?  Their  heroic  sufferings  rise  up  melo- 
diously together  to  heaven,  out  of  all  lands,  and 
out  of  all  times,  as  a  sacred  Miserere ;  their  heroic 
actions  also,  as  a  boundless,  everlasting  psalm  of 
triumph.  THOMAS  CARLYLE. 


128  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 


THE  spirit  world  around  this  world  of  sense 
Floats  like  an  atmosphere,  and  everywhere 
Wafts  through  these  earthly  mists  and  vapors  dense 
A  vital  breath  of  more  ethereal  air. 

HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 


"II  7"E  think  about  the  things  in  this  world  that 
*  *  we  have  never  seen  much  as  we  believe  in 
the  things  of  the  other  world.  ...  I  shall  know, 
I  think,  better  than  I  have  ever  known,  how  real 
the  things  may  be  that  lie  upon  that  other  side,  to 
which  men  cross  but  once,  and  come  not  back,  nor 
send  to  us  with  stories  of  their  travel.  I  shall  be 
able  to  think  that  life  and  love,  like  the  planet,  are 
round ;  and  that  though  we  lose  them  out  of  our  little 
horizon,  nothing  that  holds  to  them  by  the  eternal 
gravitation  ever  falls  away.  ...  I  shall  feel,  too, 
how  certain  it  must  be,  after  all,  that  from  out  that 
heavenly  morning,  sweet  words  and  breaths  are 
sent  back  into  our  waiting  twilights,  —  writings 
are  made  in  our  hearts  of  the  blessed  things 
that  they  walk  in  the  midst  of,  in  that  near,  fair 
Other  Side. 

MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 


AND  IN  HEAVEN.  I2Q 

^PHE  truth  is  as  clear  and  bright  to  me  as  is  this 
•*•  sunny  afternoon  that  the  world  of  spirits  is 
very  near  to  us,  just  as  God  and  Christ  are  near ; 
and  that  we  can  interchange  influences  with  our 
risen  and  glorified,  as  truly  as  you  and  I  are  now 
corresponding  across  the  seas. 

WILLIAM  HENRY  CHANNING. 


TI  7"HILE,  O  my  heart!  as  white  sails  shiver, 
V  V    And  crowds  are  passing,  and  banks  stretch  wide, 
How  hard  to  follow,  with  lips  that  quiver, 
That  moving  speck  on  the  far-off  side  ! 

Farther,  farther  —  I  see  it  —  know  it  — 

My  eyes  brim  over,  it  melts  away : 
Only  my  heart  to  my  heart  shall  show  it 

As  I  walk  desolate  day  by  day. 

And  yet  I  know  past  all  doubting,  truly  — 
And  knowledge  greater  than  grief  can  dim  — 

I  know,  as  he  loved,  he  will  love  me  duly  — 
Yea,  better —  e'en  better  than  I  love  him. 

And  as  I  walk  by  the  vast,  calm  river, 

The  awful  river  so  dread  to  see, 
I  say,  "  Thy  breadth  and  thy  depth  forever 
Are  bridged  by  his  thoughts  that  cross  to  me." 

JEAN  INGELOW. 
9 


130  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 


THE  SILENT  HOURS. 

AS  the  storm  retreating 
Leaves  the  vales  in  peace, 
Let  the  world's  vain  noises, 
O'er  our  spirits  cease. 

Now  the  hours  of  stillness, 

Wondrous  visions  show ; 
Heaven  unfolds  before  us, 

Angels  come  and  go. 

Holy,  human  faces, 

From  earth's  shadows  free, 
Look  with  love  upon  us, 

Bid  us  patient  be. 

Almost  we  discern  them, 

Almost  read  their  smile, 
Almost  hear  them  saying  — 

"  Wait  a  little  while." 

Thus  in  hours  of  stillness, 

Faith  to  Heaven  shall  rise, 
Till  death's  last,  deep  silence 

Quite  unseals  our  eyes. 

THEODORE  C.  WILLIAMS. 


AND  IN  HE  A  YEN.  131 


HE   AND   SHE. 

"  OHE  is  dead !  "  they  said  to  him.     "  Come  awaj 
O     Kiss  her  and  leave  her;  thy  love  is  clay." 

They  smoothed  her  tresses  of  dark  brown  hair, 
On  her  forehead  of  stone  they  laid  it  fair ; 

Over  her  eyes,  which  gazed  too  much, 
They  drew  the  lids  with  a  gentle  touch  ; 

With  a  tender  touch  they  closed  up  well 
The  sweet,  thin  lips,  that  had  secrets  to  tell ; 

About  her  brow  and  beautiful  face 
They  tied  her  veil  and  marriage  lace ; 

And  drew  on  her  white  feet  her  white  silk  shoes,  — 
Which  were  the  whitest  no  eye  could  choose  ! 

And  over  her  bosom  they  crossed  her  hands ; 
"  Come  away,"  they  said,  "  God  understands  !  " 

And  there  was  silence,  and  nothing  there, 
But  silence  and  scents  of  eglantere, 

And  jasmine  and  roses  and  rosemary : 

And  they  said,  "  As  a  lady  should  lie,  lies  she." 

And  they  held  their  breath  as  they  left  the  room 
With  a  shudder  to  glance  at  its  stillness  and  gloom. 


132  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 

But  he,  who  loved  her  too  well  to  dread 
The  sweet,  the  stately,  the  beautiful  dead, 

He  lit  his  lamp  and  took  the  key 

And  turned  it.    Alone  again  — he  and  she. 

He  and  she ;  yet  she  would  not  smile, 
Though  he  called  the  name  she  loved  erewhile. 

He  and  she ;  yet  she  did  not  move 
To  any  one  passionate  whisper  of  love. 

Then  he  said,  "  Cold  lips  and  breast  without  breath, 
Is  there  no  voice,  no  language  of  death  ? 

"  Dumb  to  the  ear  and  still  to  the  sense, 
But  to  heart  and  to  soul  distinct,  intense 

"  See,  now ;  I  will  listen  with  soul,  not  ear ; 
What  was  the  secret  of  dying,  dear  ? 

"  Was  it  the  infinite  wonder  of  all 

That  you  ever  could  let  life's  flower  fall  ? 

"  Or  was  it  a  greater  marvel  to  feel 
The  perfect  calm  o'er  the  agony  steal  ? 

"  Was  the  miracle  greater  to  find  how  deep 
Beyond  all  dreams,  sank  downward  that  sleep  ? 

"  Did  life  roll  back  its  record,  dear, 

And  show,  as  they  say  it  does,  past  things  clear  ? 

"  And  was  it  the  innermost  heart  of  the  bliss, 
To  find  out  so  what  a  wisdom  love  is? 


AND  IN  HEAVEN.  133 

"  O  perfect  dead  !     O  dead  most  dear, 
I  hold  the  breath  of  my  soul  to  hear ! 

"  I  listen  as  deep  as  to  horrible  hell, 

As  high  as  to  heaven,  and  you  do  not  tell ! 

"  There  must  be  pleasure  in  dying,  sweet, 
To  make  you  so  placid  from  head  to  feet. 

"  I  would  tell  you,  darling,  if  I  were  dead, 
And  'twere  your  hot  tears  upon  my  brow  shed ; 

"  I  would  say,  though  the  angel  of  death  had  laid 
His  sword  on  my  lips  to  keep  it  unsaid  ; 

"  You  should  not  ask  vainly  with  streaming  eyes, 
Which  of  all  death's  was  the  chiefest  surprise, 

"  The  very  strangest  and  suddenest  thing 
Of  all  the  surprises  that  dying  must  bring." 

Ah,  foolish  world  !     O  most  kind  dead  ! 
Tho'  he  told  me,  who  will  believe  it  was  said  ? 

Who  will  believe  that  he  heard  her  say 

With  the  sweet,  soft  voice  in  the  dear  old  way  ?  — 

"  The  utmost  wonder  is  this  —  I  hear 

And  see  you,  and  love  you  and  kiss  you,  dear, 

"  And  am  your  angel,  who  was  your  bride, 
And  know,  tho'  dead,  I  have  never  died." 

EDWIN  ARNOLD^ 


134  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 


THE  CHANGELING. 

T  HAD  a  little  daughter, 
•*•     And  she  was  given  to  me 
To  lead  me  gently  backward 

To  the  Heavenly  Father's  knee, 
That  I,  by  the  force  of  nature, 

Might  in  some  dim  wise  divine 
The  depth  of  his  infinite  patience 

To  this  wayward  soul  of  mine. 

I  know  not  how  others  saw  her, 

But  to  me  she  was  wholly  fair, 
And  the  light  of  the  heaven  she  came  from 

Still  lingered  and  gleamed  in  her  hair ; 
For  it  was  as  wavy  and  golden, 

And  as  many  changes  took, 
As  the  shadows  of  sun-gilt  ripples 

On  the  yellow  bed  of  a  brook. 

To  what  can  I  liken  her  smiling 

Upon  me,  her  kneeling  lover? 
How  it  leaped  from  her  lips  to  her  eyelids, 

And  dimpled  her  wholly  over, 
Till  her  outstretched  hands  smiled  also, 

And  I  almost  seemed  to  see 
The  very  heart  of  her  mother 

Sending  sun  through  her  veins  to  me  ! 


AND  IN  HEAVEN.  135 

She  had  been  with  us  scarce  a  twelvemonth, 

And  it  hardly  seemed  a  day, 
When  a  troop  of  wandering  angels 

Stole  my  little  daughter  away  ; 
Or  perhaps  those  heavenly  Zingari 

But  loosed  the  hampering  strings, 
And  when  they  had  opened  her  cage-door 

My  little  bird  used  her  wings. 

But  they  left  in  her  stead  a  changeling, 

A  little  angel  child, 
That  seems  like  her  bud  in  full  blossom, 

And  smiles  as  she  never  smiled  ; 
When  I  wake  in  the  morning,  I  see  it 

Where  she  always  used  to  lie, 
And  I  feel  as  weak  as  a  violet 

Alone  'neath  the  awful  sky. 

As  weak,  yet  as  trustful  also ; 

For  the  whole  year  long  I  see 
All  the  wonders  of  faithful  Nature 

Still  worked  for  the  love  of  me  ; 
Winds  wander,  and  dews  drip  earthward, 

Rain  falls,  suns  rise  and  set, 
Earth  whirls,  and  all  but  to  prosper 

A  poor  little  violet. 

The  child  is  not  mine  as  the  first  was, 

I  cannot  sing  it  to  rest, 
I  cannot  lift  it  up  fatherly 

And  bless  it  upon  my  breast ; 


136  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 

Yet  it  lies  in  my  little  one's  cradle 
And  sits  in  my  little  one's  chair, 

And  the  light  of  the  heaven  she  's  gone  to 
Transfigures  its  golden  hair. 

JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


FOOTSTEPS   OF  ANGELS. 

WHEN  the  hours  of  Day  are  numbered, 
And  the  voices  of  the  Night 
Wake  the  better  soul,  that  slumbered, 
To  a  holy,  calm  delight ; 

Ere  the  evening  lamps  are  lighted, 
And  like  phantoms  grim  and  tall, 

Shadows  from  the  fitful  fire-light 
Dance  upon  the  parlor  wall ; 

Then  the  forms  of  the  departed 

Enter  at  the  open  door ; 
The  beloved,  the  true-hearted, 

Come  to  visit  me  once  more  ; 

He,  the  young  and  strong,  who  cherished 
Noble  longings  for  the  strife, 

By  the  roadside  fell  and  perished, 
Weary  with  the  march  of  life ! 

They,  the  holy  ones  and  weakly, 
Who  the  cross  of  suffering  bore, 

Folded  their  pale  hands  so  meekly, 
Spake  with  us  on  earth  no  more  ! 


AND  IN  HEAVEN.  137 

And  with  them  the  Being  Beauteous, 
Who  unto  my  youth  was  given, 

More  than  all  things  else  to  love  me, 
And  is  now  a  saint  in  heaven. 

With  a  slow  and  noiseless  footstep 

Comes  that  messenger  divine, 
Takes  the  vacant  chair  beside  me, 

Lays  her  gentle  hand  in  mine. 

And  she  sits  and  gazes  at  me 

With  those  deep  and  tender  eyes, 

Like  the  stars,  so  still  and  saint-like, 
Looking  downward  from  the  skies. 

Uttered  not,  yet  comprehended, 

Is  the  spirit's  voiceless  prayer, 
Soft  rebukes,  in  blessings  ended, 

Breathing  from  her  lips  of  air. 

O,  though  oft  depressed  and  lonely, 

All  my  fears  are  laid  aside, 
If  I  but  remember  only 

Such  as  these  have  lived  and  died  ! 

HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 


O  FAITHFUL  heart !  sweet  peace  hast  thou 
In  God's  eternal  bosom  now  ! 
Dust  sinks  to  dust  in  calm  repose  ; 
Into  its  rest  the  spirit  goes. 


138  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH 

The  love  that  was  thy  life  while  here 

Is  now  thy  heavenly  atmosphere; 

God's  heaven  enspheres  us  round,  and  thou, 

In  Him,  art  nearer  to  us  now. 

So  then  we  cry,  Farewell,  and  Hail ! 
Brave  heart,  thy  work  shall  never  fail; 
And  we  who  here  a  friend  deplore, 
Have  gained  in  heaven  one  angel  more. 

CHARLES  T.  BROOKS. 


YT^HAT  a  momentous  interest  is  given  to  our 
whole  earthly  life  by  the  thought  that  it  is 
passed  in  the  presence  and  communion  of  the 
whole  spiritual  family !  To  my  mind  there  is 
hardly  a  text  of  Scripture,  or  form  of  speech,  that 
rolls  on  with  such  a  depth  and  fulness  of  meaning 
as  these  words :  "  Seeing  that  we  are  compassed 
about  with  so  great  a  cloud  of  witnesses."  Vast 
and  bewildering  is  the  philosophical  speculation 
which  tells  us  that  we  cannot  lift  a  finger  without 
moving  the  distant  spheres.  But  far  more  grand 
and  unspeakably  solemn  is  the  thought  that  our 
daily  lives,  our  conduct  in  lowly  and  sheltered 
scenes,  our  speech  and  walk  in  the  retirement  of 
our  homes,  are  felt  through  the  universe  of  ever- 
living  souls,  —  that  the  laws  of  attraction  and  re- 
pulsion that  reach  through  all  orders  of  being  ex- 


AND  IN  HEAVEN.  139 

tend  to  our  least  word  and  deeds,  —  that  in  every 
worthy,  generous,  holy  impulse  all  heaven  bears 
part,  —  that  from  the  trail  of  our  meanness  and  sel- 
fishness, our  waywardness  and  levity,  all  heaven 
recoils.  Let  the  august  witnesses,  the  adoring 
multitude,  in  whose  presence  we  dwell  and  wor- 
ship, arouse  us  to  growing  diligence  in  duty,  and 
awaken  in  us  increasing  fervor  of  spirit,  that  we 
may  run  with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us, 
and,  found  faithful  unto  death,  may  receive  the 

crown  of  life. 

ANDREW  P.  PEABODY. 


seasons  when  Jesus  enjoyed  the  nearest 
communion  with  heaven  deserves  our  special 
regard.  When  was  it  that  angels  and  glorified 
spirits  became  manifest  in  his  society?  Not  when 
the  multitudes  thronged  him,  and  children  sang 
hosannas  in  the  temple,  —  not  during  his  few  and 
brief  seasons  of  ease  and  outward  success.  They 
first  came  to  him  after  his  forty  days'  temptation, 
when  he  had  contended  in  lonely  prayer  with 
every  allurement  which  could  draw  him  aside  from 
his  appointed  work.  Again,  on  the  mount,  came 
Moses  and  Elijah.  And  of  what  talked  they  with 
him  ?  Not  of  crowns,  or  of  applauding  multitudes, 
but  of  his  approaching  agony  and  death.  Again, 


I4O  THE  FAMILY  ON  EARTH. 

when  in  Gethsemane  he  wrestled  with  the  severest 
powers  of  evil,  and  won  the  victory  before  his  hour 
had  come,  there  appeared  an  angel  from  heaven 
strengthening  him.  Are  not  these  things  written 
that  heaven  may  seem  nearest  to  us  when  trials 
most  abound,  in  loneliness  and  weariness,  in  deser- 
tion and  agony,  —  that  we  may  bring  the  unseen 
world  into  the  clearest  view  when  the  power  of 
evil  is  the  strongest,  and  that,  when  no  earthly 
voice  gives  us  comfort  or  a  godspeed,  we  may 
feel  that  angels  minister  to  us  and  glorified  spirits 
urge  us  heavenward? 

ANDREW  P.  PEABODY. 


ETERNAL   GOODNESS. 


ETERNAL  GOODNESS. 

BLESS  the  Lord,  O  my  soul, 
And  forget  not  all  his  benefits : 
Who  forgiveth  all  thine  iniquities  ; 
Who  healeth  all  thy  diseases  ; 
Who  redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruction ; 
Who  crowneth  thee  with  loving  kindness  and  tender 
mercies. 

PSALM  ciii.  2-4. 


"DLESSED  art  thou,  O  Lord,  our  God!  who 
•^  sustainest  the  living  with  beneficence,  and 
with  great  mercy  quickenest  the  dead,  supportest 
the  fallen,  and  healest  the  sick ;  thou  loosenest 
those  who  are  in  bonds,  and  wilt  accomplish  thy 
faith  unto  those  who  sleep  in  the  dust.  Who  is 
like  unto  thee,  O  Lord  of  mighty  acts !  or  who 
can  be  compared  unto  thee,  who  art  the  King, 
who  killest,  and  restorest  to  life;  and  causest 
salvation  to  spring  forth  !  Who  is  like  unto  thee, 
O  merciful  Father !  who  in  mercy  rememberest 

thy  creatures  to  life  ! 

ANCIENT  HEBREW  RITUAL. 


144  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

T  CANNOT  think  the  future  world  is  to  be 
feared,  even  by  the  worst  of  men.  I  had 
rather  die  a  sinner  than  live  one.  Doubtless  justice 
is  there  to  be  done ;  that  may  seem  stern  and 
severe.  But  remember,  God's  justice  is  not  like  a 
man's ;  it  is  not  vengeance,  but  mercy ;  not  poison, 
but  medicine.  To  me  it  seems  tuition  more  than 
chastisement.  God  is  not  the  jailer  of  the  universe, 
but  the  Shepherd  of  the  people  ;  not  the  hangman 
of  mankind,  but  their  Physician,  —  yes,  our  Father. 
I  know  his  justice  is  love ;  that  if  I  suffer,  it  is  for 
my  everlasting  joy.  .  .  .  Shall  God  forget  his 
child,  his  frailest  or  most  stubborn  child ;  leave 
him  in  endless  misery,  a  prey  to  insatiate  sin?  I 
tell  you  No ;  not  God.  Why,  this  eccentric  earth 
forsakes  the  sun  a  while,  careering  fast  and  far 
away,  but  that  attractive  power  prevails  at  length, 
and  the  returning  globe  comes  rounding  home 
again.  .  .  .  Do  you  tell  me  that  culprit's  mother 
loves  her  son  more  than  God  can  love  him  ?  Then 
go  and  worship  her.  I  know  that  when  father  and 
mother  both  forsake  me,  in  the  extremity  of  my 
sin,  I  know  my  God  loves  on.  Oh  yes,  ye  sons  of 
man,  Indian  and  Greek,  ye  are  right  to  trust  your 
God.  No  grain  of  dust  gets  lost  from  off  this  dusty 
globe;  and  shall  God  lose  a  man  from  off  this 
sphere  of  souls?  Believe  it  not. 


ETERNAL   GOODNESS.  145 

I  know  that  suffering  follows  sin,  lasting  long 
as  the  sin.  I  thank  God  it  is  so ;  that  God's 
own  angel  stands  there  to  warn  back  the  erring 
Balaams,  wandering  towards  woe.  But  God,  who 
sends  the  rain,  the  dew,  the  sun,  on  me  as  on  a 
better  man,  will,  at  last,  I  doubt  it  not,  make  us 
all  pure,  all  just,  all  good.  ...  I  expect  to  suffer 
for  each  conscious,  wilful  wrong ;  I  wish,  I  hope, 
I  long  to  suffer  for  it.  I  am  wronged  if  I  do  not ; 
what  I  do  not  outgrow,  live  over  and  forget  here, 
I  hope  to  expiate  there.  I  fear  a  sin,  not  to  out- 
grow a  sin.  .  .  . 

Sad  and  disappointed,  full  of  self-reproach,  we 
shall  not  be  so  forever.  The  light  of  heaven 
breaks  upon  the  night  of  trial,  sorrow,  sin.  .  .  . 
The  more  I  live,  the  more  I  love  this  lovely  world ; 
feel  more  its  Author  in  each  little  thing,  in  all  that 
is  great.  But  yet  I  feel  my  immortality  the  more. 
In  childhood  the  consciousness  of  immortal  life 
buds  forth  feeble,  though  full  of  promise.  In  the 
man  it  unfolds  its  fragrant  petals,  his  most  celestial 
flower,  to  mature  its  seed  throughout  eternity. 

THEODORE  PARKER. 


created  man  to  be  immortal,  and  made 
him  to  be  an  image  of  his  own  eternity. 
The  souls  of  the  righteous  are  in  the  hands  of 


146  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

God ;  and  there  shall  no  torment  touch  them.  In 
the  sight  of  the  unwise  they  seemed  to  die,  and 
their  departure  is  taken  for  misery,  and  their  going 
from  us  to  be  utter  destruction.  But  they  are 
in  peace,  for  though  they  be  afflicted  in  the  sight 
of  men,  yet  is  their  hope  full  of  immortality. 
Having  been  a  little  chastened,  they  shall  be 
greatly  rewarded,  for  God  proved  them  and  found 
them  worthy  of  himself.  As  gold  in  the  furnace  he 
tried  them  and  received  them  as  a  burnt  offering. 
They  shall  shine  in  the  time  of  his  visitation  and 
shall  judge  the  nations.  ,  They  that  put  their  trust 
in  him  shall  understand  the  truth,  and  such  as  be 
faithful  shall  abide  with  him  in  love. 

But  the  ungodly  shall  be  punished  according  to 
their  own  imaginations,  and  when  they  cast  up  the 
account  of  their  sins,  they  shall  fear,  and  their 
iniquities  shall  convince  them  to  their  face.  When 
they  see  it  they  shall  be  troubled  and  shall  be 
amazed  at  the  strangeness  of  his  salvation,  beyond 
all  that  they  had  looked  for.  They  are  scourged 
by  the  strength  of  thine  arms.  It  is  not  possible 
to  escape  thine  hand.  Thy  incorruptible  spirit  is 
in  all  men,  therefore  chastenest  thou  them  and 
warnest  them  by  putting  them  in  remembrance 
wherein  they  have  offended,  that  leaving  their 
wickedness  they  may  believe  on  thee,  O  God.  So 


ETERNAL   GOODNESS.  147 

were  they  troubled  for  a  short  season  that  they 
might  be  admonished,  having  a  sign  of  salvation  to 
put  them  in  remembrance  of  the  commandment 
of  thy  law. 

Thou  hast  power  over  life  and  death :  thou 
leadest  to  the  gates  of  hell  and  bringest  up  again, 
and  hast  made  thy  children  to  be  of  a  good  hope, 
for  thou  givest  repentance  of  sin.  Thou  lovest  all 
things  which  thou  hast  made :  thou  sparest  all, 
for  they  are  thine,  O  Lord,  thou  lover  of  souls. 
God  made  .not  death,  neither  hath  he  pleasure 
in  the  destruction  of  the  wicked.  He  created 
all  things  that  they  might  have  their  being  in 
righteousness ;  and  righteousness  is  immortal. 

By  thy  power  is  the  beginning  of  righteousness, 
and  because  thou  art  the  Lord  of  all,  it  maketh 
thee  to  be  gracious  unto  all.  The  true  beginning 
of  righteousness  is  the  desire  of  discipline,  and 
the  end  of  discipline  is  love,  and  love  is  the  keep- 
ing of  his  laws,  and  in  the  keeping  of  his  laws  is 
the  assurance  of  immortality.  The  Holy  Spirit  of 
Discipline  will  not  abide  where  righteousness  has 
come  in. 

Thou,  O  God,  art  gracious  and  true :  long- 
suffering,  and  in  mercy  ordering  all  things.  For 
if  we  sin  we  are  thine,  knowing  thy  power :  but 
we  will  not  sin,  knowing  that  we  are  counted  thine. 


148  LEAVES  OF  HEALING 

For  to  know  thee  is  perfect  righteousness  :  yea,  to 
know  thy  power  is  the  root  of  immortality. 

The  righteous  live  forevermore  :  their  reward  is 
also  with  the  Lord,  and  the  care  of  them  is  with 
the  Most  High.  Therefore  shall  they  receive  a 
glorious  kingdom  and  a  crown  of  beauty  from  the 
Lord's  hand.  WISDOM. 


Our  God  is  a  consuming  fire. 

nPHE  man  who  loves  God,  and  is  not  yet  pure, 
courts  the  burning  of  God.  Nor  is  it  always 
torture.  The  fire  shows  itself  sometimes  only  as 
light  —  still  it  will  be  fire  of  purifying.  The  con- 
suming fire  is  just  the  original,  the  active  form  of 
Purity,  —  that  which  makes  pure,  that  which  is 
indeed  Love,  the  creative  energy  of  God. 

The  man  whose  deeds  are  evil,  fears  the  burn- 
ing. But  the  burning  will  not  come  the  less  that 
he  fears  it  or  denies  it.  Escape  is  hopeless.  For 
Love  is  inexorable.  Our  God  is  a  consuming  fire. 
He  shall  not  come  out  till  he  has  paid  the  utter- 
most farthing. 

If  the  man  resists  the  burning  of  God,  the  con- 
suming fire  of  Love,  a  terrible  .doom  awaits  him, 
and  its  day  will  come.  He  shall  be  cast  into  the 


ETERNAL   GOODNESS.  149 

outer  darkness  who  hates  the  fire  of  God.  What 
sick  dismay  shall  then  seize  upon  him  !  Then,  if 
the  moan  of  suffering  humanity  ever  reaches  the 
ear  of  the  outcast  of  darkness,  he  will  be  ready 
to  rush  into  the  very  heart  of  the  Consuming  Fire 
to  know  life  once  more,  to  change  the  terror  of 
sick  negation,  of  unspeakable  death,  for  that  region 
of  painful  hope. 

The  outer  darkness  is  but  the  most  dreadful  form 
of  the  consuming  fire  —  the  fire  without  light  —  the 
darkness  visible,  the  black  flame.  God  hath  with- 
drawn himself,  but  not  lost  his  hold.  His  face  is 
turned  away,  but  his  hand  is  laid  upon  him  still. 
His  heart  has  ceased  to  beat  into  the  man's  heart, 
but  he  keeps  him  alive  by  his  fire.  And  that  fire 
will  go  searching  and  burning  on  in  him,  as  in 
the  highest  saint  who  is  not  yet  pure  as  He  is 
pure. 

But  at  length,  O  God,  wilt  thou  not  cast  Death 
and  Hell  into  the  lake  of  Fire  —  even  into  thine 
own  consuming  self?  Death  shall  then  die  ever- 
lastingly, 

"  And  Hell  itself  will  pass  away, 

And  leave  her  dolorous  mansions  to  the  peering  day." 

Then  indeed  wilt  thou  be  all  in  all.  For  then  our 
poor  brothers  and  sisters,  every  one  —  O  God,  we 


1  50  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

trust  in  thee,  the   Consuming   Fire  —  shall   have 
been  burnt  clean  and  brought  home. 

As  for  us,  now  will  we  come  to  thee,  our  Con- 
suming Fire.  And  thou  wilt  not  burn  us  more 
than  we  can  bear.  But  thou  wilt  burn  us.  And 
although  thou  seem  to  slay  us,  yet  will  we  trust  in 
thee  even  for  that  which  thou  hast  not  spoken,  if 
by  any  means  we  may  attain  unto  the  blessedness 
of  those  who  have  not  seen  and  yet  have  believed. 

GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 


me,  O  Infinite   Cause,  and  cleanse  me  of 
•»•        wrong  ! 
Take  me,  raise  me  to  higher  life  through  centuries 

long! 
Cleanse  me,  by  pain,  if  need  be,  through  aeons  of 

days! 

Take  me  and   purge   me,  still  will   I   answer  with 
praise  — 

There  is  no  Death  forever! 

EDWIN  MORRIS. 


N' 


COT  with  hatred's  undertow 

Doth  the  Love  Eternal  flow ; 
Every  chain  that  spirits  wear 
Crumbles  in  the  breath  of  prayer; 
And  the  penitent's  desire 
Opens  every  gate  of  fire. 


ETERNAL   GOODNESS.  151 

Still  thy  love,  O  Christ  arisen, 
Yearns  to  reach  these  souls  in  prison ! 
Through  all  depths  of  sin  and  loss 
Drops  the  plummet  of  thy  cross  ! 
Never  yet  abyss  was  found 
Deeper  than  that  cross  could  sound ! 

Therefore  well  may  nature  keep 
Equal  faith  with  all  who  sleep, 
Set  her  watch  of  hills  around 
Christian  grave  and  heathen  mound, 
And  to  cairn  and  kirkyard  send 
Summer's  flowery  dividend. 

Keep,  O  pleasant  Melvin  stream, 
Thy  sweet  laugh  in  shade  and  gleam ! 
On  the  Indian's  grassy  tomb 
Swing,  O  flowers,  your  bells  of  bloom  ! 
Deep  below,  as  high  above, 
Sweeps  the  circle  of  God's  love. 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 


A  ND  now,  as  I  behold  what  is  the  actual  sorrow 
•**•  of  some,  and  the  possible  sorrow  of  all,  in 
ray  sense  of  this  sacred  hour,  and  the  solemn  light 
that  streams  from  our  religion,  I  bid  you  hope.  Put 
the  light  in  your  windows  for  the  wanderer's  return. 
Keep  the  old  home-love  just  the  same.  They  will 
come  back.  They  will  be  yours  again.  From  the 


1 5  2  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

distant  fields  of  sin  they  will  come.  From  un- 
marked graves  they  will  rise,  and  your  sore  heart 
will  lift  itself  in  a  psalm  of  unspeakable  joy.  The 
whole  creation  shall  yet  put  on  its  new  manhood, 
and  walk  in  glory  in  the  Father's  house. 

AMOS  CRUM. 

THY  erring  child  may  be 
Lost  to  himself,  but  never  lost  to  Thee. 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 


w 


HEN  he  came  to  himself  he  said,  I  will  arise 
and  go  to  my  Father.  LUKE  xv.  17, 18. 


THE  Lord  will  perfect  that  which  concerneth  me.  — 
PSALM  cxxxviii.  8. 

PURE  love  is   the   only  eternal  fire.  —  MADAME 
GUYON. 


THE   FATHER'S  WILL 


THE  FATHER'S  WILL. 

I  BESEECH  you  therefore,  brethren,  by  the  mercies 
of  God,  to  present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy, 
acceptable  to  God,  which  is  your  reasonable  service. 
And  be  not  fashioned  according  to  this  world :  but 
be  ye  transformed  by  the  renewing  of  your  mind,  that 
ye  may  prove  what  is  the  good  and  acceptable  and 
perfect  will  of  God.  —  ROMANS  xii.  i,  2. 

That  ye  may  stand  perfect  and  complete  in  all  the 
will  of  God.  —  COL.  iv.  12. 


TVTOT  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt.  We  may  re- 
•**'  peat  these  words  upon  occasions,  in  hours 
of  bereavement.  But  do  they  suggest  anything 
more  to  our  minds  than  a  silent  submission  to  the 
inevitable  ?  They  have  a  far,  far  deeper  meaning. 

To  accept  them  as  expressing  the  supreme  abid- 
ing law  of  life,  from  a  heart  overflowing  with  their 
full  significance,  is  the  greatest  act  of  which  the 
soul  of  man  is  capable. 

It  is  not  the  annihilation  of  the  human  will,  it  is 
not  the  mere  passive  submission  of  it  to  a  higher 


156  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Power.  It  is  the  realization  of  a  transcendent 
mystery  of  our  being  :  the  exaltation  of  the  human 
will  to  an  identity  with  the  Supreme  Will. 

To  realize  this  mystery  in  one's  self,  to  be  con- 
scious that  one's  own  will  is  identically  the  Divine 
Will  is  to  be  made  conscious  of  the  imperishable 
Life  and  Love  and  Power  of  the  Supreme  Nature, 
and  consequently,  of  a  profound  sense  of  being  in 
harmony  with  the  whole  world  of  things,  of  a  Peace, 
the  Peace  of  God,  down  deep  in  the  heart,  that 
nothing  can  reach  to  destroy. 

Would  that  we  all  might  know  this  great  truth 
from  our  own  experience  !  I  trust  in  God  that 
we  all  shall  know  it,  if  not  now  and  here,  yet 
hereafter.  WILLIAM  H.  FURNESS. 


A  SK  for  no  wings  to  fly  from  any  duties  or  cares 
**•  God  has  assigned  you.  Attack  them  in  the 
front  with  zeal  and  patience,  with  courage  and 
faith,  and  make  them  allies.  Do  not  think  it  ne- 
cessary to  leave  your  post,  because  it  is  monoto- 
nous, or  lonely,  or  without  opportunities.  Employ 
your  ingenuity  in  varying  its  monotony,  in  break- 
ing up  its  unsatisfactoriness.  Rejoice  in  the 
demands  made  upon  your  gifts  and  talents.  Any- 
thing but  longing  for  dove's  wings  will  do.  The 


THE  FATHER'S  WILL.  157 

rest  the  heart  and  soul  want  is  in  God,  —  full  faith 
in  the  Father,  the  Friend,  the  Inspirer,  and  the 
Author  of  our  nature  and  our  lot.  And  no  dove 
can  carry  us  nearer  to  Him  than  we  already  are, 
when  we  humbly,  submissively,  and  patiently  do 
His  will.  Nay,  let  rather  His  dove  come  to  us,  — 
that  Holy  Spirit  which  is  God's  love  and  truth  and 
will,  welcomed  and  found  and  felt  in  our  docile 
trusting  hearts,  —  and  then  that  rest  which  visits 
the  soul  that  is  earnest  in  the  Father's  business 
will  establish  itself  here  and  now,  even  in  the  midst 
of  the  most  trying  and  painful  circumstances ;  and 
we  shall  want  no  wings  to  carry  us  away,  for  the 
dove's  wings  will  be  folded  in  a  nest  which  God 
makes  full  of  peace  and  quietness  for  us,  and  for 
himself  and  his  Son,  in  the  bottom  of  every  patient, 
faithful,  and  active  Christian's  heart ! 

HENRY  W.  BELLOWS. 


"OLINDFOLDED  and  alone  I  stand 

-D     With  unknown  thresholds  on  each  hand, 

The  darkness  deepens  as  I  grope, 

Afraid  to  fear,  afraid  to  hope : 

Yet  this  one  thing  I  learn  to  know 

Each  day  more  surely  as  I  go, 

That  doors  are  opened,  ways  are  made, 

Burdens  are  lifted  or  are  laid, 


1 5  8  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

By  some  great  law,  unseen  and  still, 
Unfathomed  purpose  to  fulfil, 
Not  as  I  will. 

H.  H. 


I  am  glad  to  think 

I  am  not  bound  to  make  the  world  go  right ; 
But  only  to  discover,  and  to  do, 
With  cheerful  heart,  the  work  that  God  appoints. 

I  will  trust  in  Him, 

That  he  can  hold  His  own  ;  and  I  will  take 
His  will,  above  the  work  he  sendeth  me, 

To  be  my  chiefest  good. 

JEAN  INGELOW. 


THE  folded  hands  seem  idle : 
If  folded  at  His  word, 
'T  is  a  holy  service,  trust  me, 
In  obedience  to  the  Lord. 

ANNA  SHIPTON. 


IF,  for  the  days  to  come,  this  hour 
Of  trial  hath  vicarious  power, 
And,  blest  by  Thee,  our  present  pain 
Be  Character's  eternal  gain, 
Thy  will  be  done ! 


THE  FATHER'S    WILL. 


159 


Strike,  Thou  the  Master,  we  Thy  keys, 
The  anthem  of  the  destinies  ! 
The  minor  of  Thy  loftier  strain, 
Our  hearts  shall  breathe  the  old  refrain, 
Thy  will  be  done ! 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 


the  atom  sings  its  tiny  song  in  the 
ear  of  God,  —  a  song  of  perfect,  infinite  con- 
tent ;  for  it  knows  that  it  and  its  Maker  are  alike 
perfect.  To  all  eternity,  it  fulfils  His  will  with 
absolutely  unquestioning  obedience.  Now  floating 
in  the  sunlight,  now  imprisoned  in  the  petal  of  a 
flower,  now  hidden  for  seeming  eternal  ages  in  the 
darkness  of  the  mine,  or  entombed  in  the  awful 
splendor  of  the  central  fires ;  now  throbbing  with 
the  sun's  inconceivable  heat,  now  chilled  by  the 
bitter  cold  of  interstellar  space,  —  always  and 
everywhere,  with  equal  and  unchanged  joy,  it  fills 
its  tiny  but  essential  place  in  the  unfathomable 
creation  of  God.  It  cannot  "serve  Him  much," 
but  it  can  serve  Him  forever,  and  can  "please 
Him  perfectly." 

"  Wouldst  thou  the  highest  life  know,  the  atom  can  whisper 

its  secret  r 
What  that  is  without  will,  that  be  thou,  man,  with  a  will." 

SAMUEL  R.  CALTHROP. 


I6O  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

HPHE  great  secret  of  spiritual  perfection  is  ex- 
•*•  pressed  in  the  words  of  Saint  Ignatius  Loyola, 
"Hoc  vult  Deus."  God  wishes  me  to  stand  at 
this  -post,  to  fulfil  this  duty,  to  suffer  this  disease, 
to  be  afflicted  with  this  calamity,  this  contempt, 
this  vexation.  God  wishes  this,  —  whatever  the 
world  and  self  may  dictate,  "  Hoc  vult  Deus."  — 
His  will  is  my  law.  KENELM  HENRY  DIGBY. 

TDETTER  than  resignation,  more  Christ-like  is  it 
^  to  have  our  wills  lifted  up  into  oneness  with 
the  Father's,  —  to  believe  that  his  will  contains 
more  of  blessedness  for  us  than  we  can  ever 
ask.  "  Lead  Thou  me  on  !  " 

DANIEL  W.  MOREHOUSE. 


'IPHE  thought  on  which  I  delight  to  dwell,  as  I 
•••  advance  in  life,  is  that  God  is  within  me,  al- 
ways present  to  my  soul,  to  teach,  to  rebuke,  to 
aid,  to  bless,  —  that  he  truly  desires  my  salvation 
from  all  inward  evils,  —  that  he  is  ever  ready  to 
give  his  spirit,  that  there  is  no  part  of  my  lot  which 
may  not  carry  me  forward  to  perfection,  and  that 
outward  things  are  of  little  or  no  moment,  provided 
this  great  work  of  God  goes  on  within.  The  body 


THE  FATHER'S    WILL,  l6l 

and  the  world  vanish  more  and  more,  and  the  soul, 
the  immortal  principle,  made  to  bear  God's  image, 
to  partake  of  His  truth,  goodness,  purity,  and  hap- 
piness, comes  out  to  my  consciousness  more  and 
more  distinctly;  and  in  feeling  God's  intimate 
presence  with  this,  to  enlighten,  quicken,  and  save, 
I  find  strength  and  hope  and  peace. 

WILLIAM  ELLERY  CHANNING. 


T  REMEMBERED  some  sentences  of  Ruskin's 
that  had  been  curiously  beautiful  to  me,  just 
from  the  fact  they  told ;  and  now  the  fact  inter- 
preted itself.  He  explains  to  us  how  one  of  the 
ideas  of  architecture  grew,  from  observing  the  out- 
line left,  when  the  rose,  or  the  trefoil,  or  whatever 
was  first  traced  for  carving,  had  been  cut  and 
taken  away.  That  which  was  left  was  as  beautiful 
as  the  central  design.  So  God  shapes  the  flower 
of  beauty  in  us,  and  seems  perhaps  only  to  reveal 
its  glory  by  a  taking  away.  But  he  sees  how  fair 
in  the  life  stands  the  outline  that  is  left ;  how  the 
tender  curves  bend  and  cling  about  an  emptiness, 
and  declare  in  themselves  a  wonderful,  essential 
grace.  He  makes  that  which  remains  by  the  same 
stroke  which  separates  and  removes;  and  so  he 
chisels  and  thins  and  glorifies  us,  until  in  the  im- 
ii 


1 62  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

mortal  aspects  in  which  we  shall  stand  before  him, 
only  so  much  of  the  mere  form  of  being  shall  re- 
main as  shall  make  it  possible  for  us  to  hold  these 
thoughts  of  his  with  which  he  has  been,  by  depriv- 
ing, filling  us.  MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 


WHAT  thou  wilt,  O  Father,  give ! 
All  is  gain  that  I  receive. 
Let  the  lowliest  task  be  mine, 
Grateful,  so  the  work  be  Thine ; 
Let  me  find  the  humblest  place 
In  the  shadow  of  Thy  grace. 
If  there  be  some  weaker  one, 
Give  me  strength  to  help  him  on ; 
If  a  blinder  soul  there  be, 
Let  me  guide  him  nearer  Thee. 
Make  my  mortal  dreams  come  true 
With  the  work  I  fain  would  do  ; 
Clothe  with  life  the  weak  intent, 
Let  me  be  the  thing  I  meant ; 
Let  me  find  in  Thy  employ 
Peace  that  dearer  is  than  joy; 
Out  of  self  to  love  be  led, 
And  to  heaven  acclimated, 
Until  all  things  sweet  and  good 
Seem  my  natural  habitude. 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 


THE  FATHER'S   WILL.  163 

rpHOUGH  dark  my  path  and  sad  my  lot 
-*-      Let  me  be  still  and  murmur  not, 
And  breathe  the  prayer  divinely  taught, 
"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

Let  but  my  fainting  heart  be  blest 
With  thy  sweet  spirit  for  its  guest, 
My  God,  to  Thee  I  leave  the  rest : 
"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

Renew  my  will  from  day  to  day ; 
Blend  it  with  Thine,  and  take  away 
All  that  now  makes  it  hard  to  say, 

"  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

CHARLOTTE  ELLIOTT. 


WE  tell -Thee  of  our  care, 
Of  the  sore  burden,  pressing  day  by  day, 
And  in  the  light  and  pity  of  Thy  face, 
The  burden  melts  away. 

We  breathe  our  secret  wish, 
The  importunate  longing  which  no  man  may  see ; 
We  ask  it  humbly,  or,  more  restful  still, 

We  leave  it  all  to  Thee. 

SUSAN  COOLIDGE. 


MY  Father,  as  Thou  wilt  : 
Oh,  may  thy  will  be  mine ! 
Into  thy  hands  of  love 
I  would  my  all  resign. 


1 64  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Through  sorrow  or  through  joy, . 
Conduct  me  as  Thine  own, 
And  help  me  still  to  say, 
Father,  Thy  will  be  done. 

My  Father,  as  Thou  wilt : 
If  needy  here  and  poor, 
Give  me  Thy  people's  bread, 
Their  portion  rich  and  sure ; 
The  manna  of  thy  word 
Let  my  soul  feed  upon ; 
And  if  all  else  should  fail, 
Father,  Thy  will  be  done. 

My  Father,  as  Thou  wilt: 
All  shall  be  well  for  me ; 
Each  changing  future  scene, 
I  gladly  trust  with  Thee. 
Straight  to  my  home  above, 
I  travel  calmly  on, 
And  sing  in  life  or  death, 
Father,  Thy  will  be  done. 

BENJAMIN  SCHMOLKE. 
TR.,  JANE  BORTHWICK. 


Lo,  I  am  come  to  do  Thy  will,  O  God.  —  HEB.  x.  7. 
I  love  the  Father,  and  as  the  Father  gave  me  com- 
mandment, even  so  I  do.  —  JOHN  xiv.  31. 


ASPIRATION. 


ASPIRATION. 

As  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they 
also  may  be  in  us.  —  JESUS. 


A  S  we  are  religious,  we  are  in  a  state  of  aspira- 
•*"*•  tion  and  unsatisfied  desire.  We  lie  open  to 
the  infinite  universe,  and  keep  the  vigils  of  the 
exposed  and  trustful.  JAMES  MARTINEAU. 

A /TAN'S  Unhappiness,  as  I  construe,  comes  of  his 
Greatness ;  it  is  because  there  is  an  Infinite 
in  him,  which  with  all  his  cunning  he  cannot  quite 
bury  under  the  Finite.  THOMAS  CARLYLE. 

"\1 7HEN  your  Ideal  World,  wherein  the  whole 
man  has  been  dimly  struggling  and  inex- 
pressibly languishing  to  work,  becomes  revealed, 
and  thrown  open,  you  discover,  with  amazement 
enough,  that  it  is  "  here  or  nowhere."  The  situa- 
tion that  has  not  its  Duty,  its  Ideal,  was  never 
yet  occupied  by  man.  Yes,  here,  in  this  poor, 


1  68  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

miserable,  hampered,  despicable  Actual,  wherein 
thou  even  now  standest,  here  or  nowhere  is  thy 
Ideal  :  work  it  out  therefrom  ;  and  working,  believe, 
live,  be  free.  THOMAS  CARLYLE. 


problem  of  contentment,  then,  is  this,  — 
•*•  to  be  contented  with  our  present  condition, 
whatever  it  may  be,  and  yet  endeavor  to  improve 
it  and  make  it  better  :  in  short,  not  to  lay  much 
stress,  one  way  or  the  other,  on  our  outward  posi- 
tion, but  to  have  the  fountain  of  contentment 
within,  in  a  full  and  active  soul. 

Such  contentment  is  not  sluggishness.  A  man 
may  be  contented  where  he  is,  because  he  is  con- 
scious he  is  full  of  life/  and  must  make  progress. 

True  contentment  is  noble.  It  is  the  perfect 
poise  of  a  well-balanced  mind  ;  of  one  who  can 
wait  when  patience  is  necessary  and  work  when 
work  is  timely,  not  daunted  by  failure,  not  elated 
by  success. 

The  root  of  discontent  is  self-love  ;  the  root  of 
true  content  is  work  done  in  love  for  true  ends. 
True  contentment  is  paired  with  a  true  discon- 
tent, and  the  one  and  the  other  lead  us  to  the 
mercy-seat  of  God,  and  fill  us  more  and  more  with 

the  spirit  of  prayer. 

JAMES  FREEMAN  CLARKE. 


w 


ASPIRATION.  169 

HAT  I  aspire  to  be,  and  am  not,  comforts 
me-  ROBERT  BROWNING. 


HPHE  door  to  any  outward  heaven  lies  through 
an  inward  heaven.  If  we  do  not  first  enter 
"  the  kingdom  of  heaven  which  is  within  us,"  we 
shall  not  enter  any  heaven  above  us  or  outside 
of  us.  JAMES  FREEMAN  CLARKE. 


THE   BEGGAR. 

A  BEGGAR  through  the  world  am  I,  — 
From  place  to  place  I  wander  by. 
Fill  up  my  pilgrim's  scrip  for  me, 
For  Christ's  sweet  sake  and  charity  ! 

A  little  of  thy  steadfastness, 

Rounded  with  leafy  gracefulness, 

Old  oak,  give  me,  — 

That  the  world's  blasts  may  round  me  blow, 

And  I  yield  gently  to  and  fro, 

While  my  stout-hearted  trunk  below 

And  firm-set  roots  unshaken  be. 

Some  of  thy  stern,  unyielding  might, 
Enduring  still  through  day  and  night 
Rude  tempest-shock  and  withering  blight,  — 


170  LEAVES  OF  HEALING, 

That  I  may  keep  at  bay 
The  changeful  April  sky  of  chance 
And  the  strong  tide  of  circumstance,  — 
Give  me,  old  granite  gray. 

Some  of  thy  pensiveness  serene, 

Some  of  thy  never-dying  green, 

Put  in  this  scrip  of  mine,  — 

That  griefs  may  fall  like  snow-flakes  light, 

And  deck  me  in  a  robe  of  white, 

Ready  to  be  an  angel  bright,  — 

0  sweetly  mournful  pine. 

A  little  of  thy  merriment, 
Of  thy  sparkling,  light  content, 
Give  me,  my  cheerful  brook,  — 
That  I  may  still  be  full  of  glee 
And  gladsomeness,  where'er  I  be, 
Though  fickle  fate  hath  prisoned  me 
In  some  neglected  nook. 

Ye  have  been  very  kind  and  good 
To  me,  since  I  've  been  in  the  wood; 
Ye  have  gone  nigh  to  fill  my  heart ; 
But  good-by,  kind  friends,  every  one, 

1  've  far  to  go  ere  set  of  sun ; 

Of  all  good  things  I  would  have  part, 
The  day  was  high  ere  I  could  start, 
And  so  my  journey  's  scarce  begun. 

Heaven  help  me !  how  could  I  forget 
To  beg  of  thee,  dear  violet ! 


ASPIRATION;  171 

Some  of  thy  modesty, 
That  blossoms  here  as  well,  unseen, 
As  if  before  the  world  thou  'dst  been, 
Oh,  give,  to  strengthen  me. 

JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


A  PRAYER. 

GIRD  me  with  the  strength  of  thy  steadfast  hills  ! 
The  speed  of  thy  streams  give  me  ! 
In  the  spirit  that  calms,  with  the  life  that  thrills, 
I  would  stand  or  run  for  thee. 
Let  me  be  thy  voice,  or  thy  silent  power, — 
As  the  cataract  or  the  peak,  — 
An  eternal  thought,  in  my  earthly  hour, 
Of  the  living  God  to  speak. 

Clothe  me  in  the  rose  tints  of  thy  skies 

Upon  morning  summits  laid  ; 

Robe  me  in  the  purple  and  gold  that  flies 

Through  thy  shuttle  of  light  and  shade ; 

Let  me  rise  and  rejoice  in  thy  smile  aright, 

As  mountains  and  forests  do ; 

Let  me  welcome  thy  twilight  and  thy  night 

And  wait  for  thy  dawn  anew  ! 

Give  me  of  the  brook's  faith,  joyously  sung 
Under  clank  of  its  icy  chain  ! 
Give  me  of  the  patience  that  hides  among 
Thy  hill-tops  in  mist  and  rain  ! 


1/2  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Lift  me  up  from  the  clod ;  let  me  breathe  thy  breath ; 
Thy  beauty  and  strength  give  me  ! 
Let  me  lose  both  the  name  and  the  meaning  of  death 
In  the  life  that  I  share  with  Thee  ! 

LUCY  LARCOM. 

1  RANT,  O  my  God,  that  neither  joy  nor  sorrow 
shall  visit  my  heart  in  vain  !  Make  me  wise 
and  strong  to  the  performance  of  immediate  du- 
ties, and  ripen  me  by  what  means  Thou  seest  best 
for  the  performance  of  those  that  lie  beyond. 

MARGARET  FULLER. 

NEEDED   BLESSINGS. 

WE  ask  not  that  our  path  be  always  bright, 
But  for  Thine  aid  to  walk  therein  aright ; 
That  Thou,  O  Lord,  through  all  its  devious  way 
Wilt  give  us  strength  sufficient  to  our  day,  — 
For  this,  for  this  we  pray. 

Not  for  the  fleeting  joys  that  earth  bestows, 
Not  for  exemption  from  its  many  woes ; 
But  that,  come  joy  or  woe,  come  good  or  ill, 
With  childlike  faith  we  trust  Thy  guidance  still, 
And  do  Thy  holy  will. 

Teach  us,  dear  Lord,  to  find  the  latent  good 
That  sorrow  yields,  when  rightly  understood  ; 
And  for  the  frequent  joy  that  crowns  our  days 
Help  us  with  grateful  hearts  our  hymns  to  raise, 
Of  thankfulness  and  praise. 


ASPIRATION.  173 

Thou  knowest  all  our  needs,  and  wilt  supply ; 
No  veil  of  darkness  hides  us  from  Thine  eye, 
Nor  vainly,  from  the  depths,  on  Thee  we  call ; 
Thy  tender  love,  that  breaks  the  tempter's  thrall, 
Folds  and  encircles  all. 

WILLIAM  H.  BURLEIGH. 


A   REVERIE   IN   SICKNESS. 

I  FANCY  I  hear  a  whisper, 
As  of  leaves  in  a  gentle  air ; 
Is  it  wrong,  I  wonder,  to  fancy 
It  may  be  the  tree  up  there  ?  — 
The  tree  that  heals  the  nations, 
Growing  amidst  the  street, 
And  dropping  for  who  will  gather 
Its  healing  at  their  feet. 

I  fancy  I  hear  a  rushing 

As  of  waters  down  a  slope ; 

Is  it  wrong,  I  wonder,  to  fancy 

It  may  be  the  river  of  hope  ?  — 

The  river  of  crystal  waters, 

That  flows  from  the  very  throne, 

And  runs  through  the  street  of  the  city, 

With  a  softly  jubilant  tone. 

I  fancy  a  twilight  round  me, 
And  a  wandering  of  the  breeze, 
With  a  hush  in  that  high  city, 
And  a  going  in  the  trees. 


1/4  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

But  I  know  there  will  be  no  night  there, 
No  coming  and  going  day, 
For  the  holy  face  of  the  Father 
Will  be  perfect  light  alway. 

I  could  do  without  the  darkness, 

And  better  without  the  sun ; 

But  oh  !  I  should  like  a  twilight, 

After  the  day  was  done  !  — 

Would  He  lay  His  hand  on  His  forehead, 

On  His  hair  as  white  as  wool, 

And  shine  one  hour  through  His  ringers, 

Till  the  shadow  had  made  me  cool. 

• 

But  the  thought  is  very  foolish  ; 

If  that  face  I  did  but  see, 

All  else  would  be  forgotten,  — 

River  and  twilight  and  tree ; 

I  should  seek,  I  should  care,  for  nothing, 

Beholding  His  countenance; 

And  fear  only  to  lose  one  glimmer 

By  one  single  sideway  glance. 

'T  is  again  but  a  foolish  fancy, 
To  picture  the  countenance  so, 
Which  is  shining  in  all  our  spirits, 
Making  them  white  as  snow. 
Come  to  me,  shine  in  me,  Father, 
And  I  care  not  for  river  or  tree, 
Care  for  no  sorrow  or  sighing, 
If  only  Thou  shine  in  me. 


ASPIRATION.  175 

I  would  lie  on  my  bed  for  ages, 
Looking  out  on  the  dusty  street, 
Where  whisper,  nor  leaves,  nor  waters, 
Nor  anything  cOol  and  sweet,  — 
At  my  heart  this  ghastly  fainting, 
And  this  burning  in  my  blood,  — 
If  only  I  knew  Thou  wast  with  me, 
Wast  with  me  —  making  me  good. 

GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 


AS  some  rare  perfume  in  a  vase  of  clay 
Pervades  it  with  a  fragrance  not  its  own, 
So,  when  Thou  dwellest  in  a  mortal  soul, 
All  heaven's  own  sweetness  seems  around  it  thrown. 

Abide  in  me !  There  have  been  moments  blest, 

When  I  have  heard  Thy  voice  and  felt  Thy  power ; 

Then  evil  lost  its  grasp ;  and  passion,  hushed, 
Owned  the  divine  enchantment  of  the  hour. 

These  were  but  seasons,  beautiful  and  rare : 

Abide  in  me,  and  they  shall  ever  be  ! 
Fulfil  at  once  Thy  precept  and  my  prayer : 

Come,  and  abide  in  me,  and  I  in  Thee ! 

HARRIET  BEECHER  STOWE. 


T?ATHER,  in  Thy  mysterious  presence  kneeling, 
-•-       Fain  would  our  souls  feel  all  Thy  kindling  love ; 
For  we  are  weak,  and  need  some  deep  revealing 
Of  trust  and  strength  and  calmness  from  above. 


176  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

Lord,  we  have  wandered  forth  through   doubt  and 

sorrow, 

.  And  Thou  hast  made  each  step  an  onward  one ; 
And  we  will  ever  trust  each  unknown  morrow,  — 
Thou  wilt  sustain  us  till  its  work  is  done. 

In  the  heart's  depths  a  peace  serene  and  holy 
Abides  ;  and  when  pain  seems  to  have  its  will, 

Or  we  despair,  oh,  may  that  peace  rise  slowly, 
Stronger  than  agony,  and  we  be  still ! 

Now,  Father,  now,  in  Thy  dear  presence  kneeling, 
Our  spirits  yearn  to  feel  Thy  kindling  love  : 

Now  make  us  strong,  we  need  Thy  deep  revealing 
Of  trust  and  strength  and  calmness  from  above. 

SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 


Life  within  my  life,  than  self  more  near  ! 
-*-      Thou  veiled  Presence  infinitely  dear  ! 
From  all  my  nameless  weariness  I  flee 
To  find  my  centre  and  my  rest  in  Thee. 

Take  part  with  me  against  these  doubts  that  rise, 
And  seek  to  throne  Thee  far  in  distant  skies  ! 
Take  part  with  me  against  this  self,  that  dares 
Assume  the  burden  of  these  sins  and  cares  ! 

How  can  I  call  Thee  who  art  always  here, 
How  shall  I  praise  Thee  who  art  still  most  dear, 
What  may  I  give  Thee,  save  what  Thou  hast  given, 
And  whom  but  Thee  have  I  in  earth  or  heaven  ? 

ELIZA  SCUDDER. 


ASPIRATION.  177 


O^HROUGH  all  this  life's  eventful  road, 
A      Fain  would  I  walk  with  Thee,  my  God, 
And  find  Thy  presence  light  around, 
And  every  step  on  holy  ground. 

Each  blessing  would  I  trace  to  Thee, 
In  every  grief  Thy  mercy  see  ; 
And  through  the  paths  of  duty  move, 
Conscious  of  Thine  encircling  love. 

And  when  the  angel  Death  stands  by, 
Be  this  my  strength  that  Thou  art  nigh  ; 
And  this  my  joy,  that  I  shall  be 
With  those  who  dwell  in  light  with  Thee. 
•  WILLIAM  GASKELL. 


IN  Thee  my  trust  abideth, 
On  Thee  my  hope  relies, 
O  Thou  whose  love  provideth 

For  all  beneath  the  skies  : 
O  for  a  heart  to  love  Thee 

More  truly  as  I  ought, 
And  nothing  place  above  Thee 
In  deed,  or  word,  or  thought. 

My  grief  is  in  the  dulness 

With  which  this  sluggish  heart 

Doth  open  to  the  fulness 
Of  all  Thou  wouldst  impart ; 

12 


i;8  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

My  joy  is  in  Thy  beauty 

Of  holiness  divine, 
My  comfort  in  the  duty 

That  binds  my  life  to  Thine. 

O  for  that  choicest  blessing 

Of  living  in  Thy  love, 
And  thus  on  earth  possessing 

The  peace  of  heaven  above ; 
O  for  the  bliss  that  by  it 

The  soul  securely  knows ; 
The  holy  calm  and  quiet 

Of  faith's  serene  repose. 

J.  S.  B.  MONSELL. 

WE  kneel  how  weak,  we  rise  how  full  of  power. 
Why  therefore  should  we  do   ourselves   this 

wrong, 

Or  others  —  that  we  are  not  always  strong, 
That  we  are  ever  overborne  with  care, 
That  we  should  ever  weak  or  heartless  be, 
Anxious  or  troubled,  when  with  us  is  prayer, 
And  joy  and  strength  and  courage  are  with  Thee  ? 

RICHARD  CHENEVIX  TRENCH. 

AGAINST   THE    SKY. 

A  GAINST  the  sky  the  elm  has  laid 
•£*•    Her  graceful  branches  unafraid. 
Against  the  sky  the  maples  rest, 
And  hold  their  red  buds  to  be  blessed. 


ASPIRATION.  179 

Against  the  sky !    That  is  the  test. 
Hold  up  thy  soul  and  stand  confessed 
Against  the  sky !     And  all  of  earth 
Will  show  at  once  its  lowly  birth. 

Against  the  sky  !    And  what  is  fair 
Will  join  eternal  beauty  there. 
Have  fellowship  with  Heaven,  and  try 
To  judge  thy  life  against  the  sky. 

JAMES  FREEMAN  CLARKE. 


THE   BLESSED   LIFE. 

O  BLESSED  life!  the  heart  at  rest, 
When  all  without  tumultuous  seems, 
That  trusts  a  higher  will,  and  deems 
That  higher  will,  made  ours,  the  best. 

O  blessed  life  !  the  mind  that  sees  — 
Whatever  change  the  years  may  bring  — 
Some  good  still  hid  in  everything, 
And  shining  through  all  mysteries. 

O  blessed  life !  the  soul  that  soars, 
When  sense  of  mortal  sight  is  dim, 
Beyond  the  sense,  —  beyond,  to  Him 
Whose  love  unlocks  the  heavenly  doors. 


180  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

O  blessed  life  !  heart,  mind,  and  soul, 
From  selfish  aims  and  wishes  free, 
In  all  at  one  with  Deity, 
And  loyal  to  the  Lord's  control. 

WILLIAM  TIDD  MATSON. 


THAT  ye  may  be  filled  unto  all  the  fulness  of  God. 

EPHESIANS  iii.  19. 


THE   PERFECT  TRUST. 


THE   PERFECT  TRUST. 

THE  eternal  God  is  thy  dwelling  place, 
And  underneath  are  the  everlasting  arms. 

DEUT.  xxxiii.  27. 

REST  in  the  Lord ;  wait  patiently  on  him ; 
And  he  shall  give  thee  thy  heart's  desire. 

PSALM  xxxvii. 


knowest  that  I  am  not  blest 
A      As  thou  wouldst  have  me  be, 
Till  all  the  peace  and  joy  of  faith 
Possess  my  soul  in  Thee. 

ANNA  L.  WARING. 


/~\NLY  as  we  trust,  do  we  indeed  live,  coming  to 
^-^  be  content,  though  we  cannot  fill  the  yawn- 
ing abysses  or  fathom  the  fathomless  will,  in  the 
conviction  that  God  is  over  all,  and  over  all  for 
good.  Let  us  not  forget  that  where  man  fails, 
there  God  begins,  and  that  He,  notwithstanding 
human  failure,  is  able  with  unutterable  peace  and 
blessing  to  bless  those  who  put  their  trust  in  Him. 

JOHN  F.  W.  WARE. 


1 84  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

"II  rHEN,  hope  as  you  will,  you  can  trust  every- 
thing to  the  Eternal,  then  does  the  peace 
that  passes  understanding  overflow  your  heart  with 
its  ineffable  serenity.  And  can  you  not  trust  every- 
thing to  him  when  you  consider  all  the  ordered 
beauty  and  beneficence  of  his  manifest  life  ?  Hope 
then,  dear  friends,  as  grandly  as  you  will,  but  still 
more  grandly  trust.  JOHN  W.  CHADWICK. 

"\T  7"E  wrong  the  deepest  revelations  of  life,  when 
*'  we  are  not  content  to  let  this  one  little 
segment  in  the  arc  of  our  existence  stand  in  its 
own  simple,  separate  intention,  whether  it  be  glad- 
ness or  gloom ;  and  trust  surely  that  the  full  and 
perfect  intention  must  come  out  in  the  full  range 
of  our  being.  ROBERT  COLLYER. 

QAY  what  we  will,  there  is  nothing  stronger  or 
^  deeper  in  men  than  confidence  in  God,  —  a 
solemn  trust  that  He  will  do  us  good. 

THEODORE  PARKER. 

'TWERE  is  a  sublime  trust  implied  in  calm  and 
conquering  cheerfulness.  The  soul  seems  to 
have  such  an  understanding  with  the  universe ; 
such  a  childlike  confidence  that  its  Father  will  do 
all  things  well.  That  a  being  so  frail  as  man,  with 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  185 

such  a  destiny  at  stake,  in  a  condition  so  grand, 
walking  amid  forces  whose  rage  he  is  impotent  to 
control  —  that  such  a  one  can  be  cheerful  and 
happy  shows  an  inborn  conviction  that  God  holds 
them  all  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand.  How  sublime 
is  such  a  trust !  NAHOR  AUGUSTUS  STAPLES. 

"\T  7"E  never  know  through  what  divine  mysteries 
^*  of  compensation  the  great  Father  of  the 
universe  may  be  carrying  out  His  sublime  plan ; 
and  those  three  words,  "  God  is  Love,"  ought  to 
contain,  to  every  doubting  soul,  the  solution  of  all 
things.  Miss  MULOCH. 

A  MONG  the  children  of  God,  while  there  is 
•*"*•  always  that  fearful  and  bowed  apprehension 
of  His  majesty,  and  that  sacred  dread  of  all  offence 
to  Him,  which  is  called  the  fear  of  God,  yet  of  real 
and  essential  fear  there  is  not  any,  but  clinging  of 
confidence  to  Him  as  their  Rock,  Fortress,  and 
Deliverer,  and  perfect  love,  and  casting  out  of 
fear ;  so  that  it  is  not  possible  that  while  the  mind 
is  rightly  bent  on  Him  there  should  be  any  dread 
of  anything  either  earthly  or  supernatural;  and 
the  more  dreadful  seems  the  height  of  His  majesty, 
the  less  fear  they  feel  that  dwell  in  the  shadow 
of  it.  JOHN  RUSKIN. 


1 86  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

ONE  adequate  support 
For  the  calamities  of  mortal  life 
Exists,  —  one  only ;  an  assured  belief 
That  the  procession  of  our  fate,  howe'er 
Sad  or  disturbed,  is  ordered  by  a  Being 
Of  infinite  benevolence  and  power ; 
Whose  everlasting  purposes  embrace 
All  accidents,  converting  them  to  good. 
—  The  darts  of  anguish  fix  not  where  the  seat 
Of  suffering  hath  been  thoroughly  fortified 
By  acquiescence  in  the  Will  supreme 
For  time  and  for  eternity  ;  by  faith, 
Faith  absolute  in  Gqd,  including  hope, 
And  the  defence  that  lies  in  boundless  love 
Of  His  perfections  ;  with  habitual  dread 
Of  aught  unworthily  conceived,  endured 
Impatiently,  ill-done,  or  left  undone, 
To  the  dishonor  of  His  holy  name. 
Soul  of  our  souls,  and  safeguard  of  the  world ! 
Sustain,  thou  only  canst,  the  sick  of  heart ; 
Restore  their  languid  spirits,  and  recall 
Their  lost  affections  unto  Thee  and  Thine  ! 

WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH. 

A  SECOND  voice  was  at  mine  ear, 
A  little  whisper  silver-clear, 
A  murmur,  "  Be  of  better  cheer." 

As  from  some  blissful  neighborhood, 

A  notice  faintly  understood, 

"  I  see  the  end,  and  know  the  good." 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  187 

A  little  hint  to  solace  woe, 

A  hint,  a  whisper  breathing  low, 

"  I  may  not  speak  of  what  I  know." 

Like  an  /Eolian  harp  that  wakes 

No  certain  air,  but  overtakes 

Far  thought  with  music  that  it  makes : 

Such  seem'd  the  whisper  at  my  side  : 

"  What  is  it  thou  knowest,  sweet  voice  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  A  hidden  hope,"  the  voice  replied : 

So  heavenly-toned,  that  in  that  hour 
From  out  my  sullen  heart  a  power 
Broke,  like  the  rainbow  from  the  shower, 

To  feel,  altho'  no  tongue  can  prove, 
That  every  cloud,  that  spreads  above 
And  veileth  love,  itself  is  love. 

And  forth  into  the  fields  I  went, 
And  Nature's  living  motion  lent 
The  pulse  of  hope  to  discontent. 

I  wonder'd  at  the  bounteous  hours, 
The  slow  result  of  winter  showers  : 
You  scarce  could  see  the  grass  for  flowers. 

I  wonder'd,  while  I  paced  along : 

The  woods  were  fill'd  so  full  with  song, 

There  seem'd  no  room  for  sense  of  wrong. 


1 88  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

So  variously  seem'd  all  things  wrought, 
I  marvell'd  how  the  mind  was  brought 
To  anchor  by  one  gloomy  thought ; 

And  wherefore  rather  I  made  choice 
To  commune  with  that  barren  voice, 
Than  him  that  said,  "  Rejoice  !  rejoice  ! " 

ALFRED  TENNYSON. 


MORALITY. 

WE  cannot  kindle  when  we  will 
The  fire  which  in  the  heart  resides  ; 
The  spirit  bloweth  and  is  still, 
In  mystery  our  soul  abides. 

But  tasks  in  hours  of  insight  will'd 
Can  be  through  hours  of  gloom  fulfill'd. 

With  aching  hands  and  bleeding  feet 
We  dig  and  heap,  lay  stone  on  stone  ; 
We  bear  the  burden  and  the  heat 
Of  the  long  day,  and  wish  't  were  done. 
Not  till  the  hours  of  light  return, 
All  we  have  built  do  we  discern. 

Then,  when  the  clouds  are  off  the  soul, 
When  thou  dost  bask  in  Nature's  eye, 
Ask  how  she  viewed  thy  self-control, 
Thy  struggling,  tasked  morality  — 
Nature,  whose  free,  light,  cheerful  air, 
Oft  made  thee,  in  thy  gloom,  despair. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  189 

And  she,  whose  censure  them  dost  dread, 
Whose  eye  thou  wast  afraid  to  seek, 
See,  on  her  face  a  glow  is  spread, 
A  strong  emotion  on  her  cheek  ! 
"  Ah,  child  !  "  she  cries,  "  that  strife  divine, 
Whence  was  it,  for  it  is  not  mine  ? 

"  There  is  no  effort  on  my  brow  — 

I  do  not  strive,  I  do  not  weep ; 

I  rush  with  the  swift  spheres  and  glow 

In  joy,  and  when  I  will,  I  sleep. 
Yet  that  severe,  that  earnest  air, 
I  saw,  I  felt  it  once  —  but  where  ? 

"  I  knew  not  yet  the  gauge  of  time, 

Nor  wore  the  manacles  of  space  ; 

I  felt  it  in  some  other  clime, 

I  saw  it  in  some  other  place. 

'T  was  when  the  heavenly  house  I  trod, 
And  lay  upon  the  breast  of  God." 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD. 


SO  sometimes  comes  to  soul  and  sense 
The  feeling  which  is  evidence 
That  very  near  about  us  lies 
The  realm  of  spiritual  mysteries. 
The  sphere  of  the  supernal  powers 
Impinges  on  this  world  of  ours. 
The  low  and  dark  horizon  lifts, 
To  light  the  scenic  terror  shifts ; 


I9O  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

The  breath  of  a  diviner  air 
Blows  down  the  answer  of  a  prayer : 
That  all  our  sorrow,  pain,  and  doubt 
A  great  compassion  clasps  about, 
And  law  and  goodness,  love  and  force, 
Are  wedded  fast  beyond  divorce. 
Then  duty  leaves  to  love  its  task, 
The  beggar  Self  forgets  to  ask  ; 
With  smile  of  trust  and  folded  hands, 
The  passive  soul  in  waiting  stands 
To  feel,  as  flowers  the  sun  and  dew, 
The  One  true  Life  its  own  renew. 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 

T^AITH  must  reconcile  me,  and  you,  and  all  men, 
•*•  to  that  progress  of  events  which  is  the  con- 
stant, and  often  the  unwelcome,  evolution  of  the 
Divine  will ;  faith  in  God  as  absolute  goodness  as 
well  as  supreme  power ;  faith  in  a  love  too  tender 
to  be  tyrannical,  and  too  wise  to  be  indulgent ; 
faith  in  God  as  a  Father,  and  as  my  Father,  —  not 
mine  more  than  others',  but  theirs  and  mine,  be- 
yond denial,  doubt,  or  a  whisper  of  unbelief.  Give 
me  this  faith,  establish  it  in  my  understanding, 
plant  it  in  my  heart,  and  I  shall  neither  tremble 
nor  complain ;  but  will  open  my  arms  to  embrace 
and  take  to  my  bosom  all  life's  experience,  change- 
ful and  strange  and  sad  and  irreconcilable  with 
my  notions  of  wisdom  and  goodness  though  it 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  IQI 

seem  to  be.  Let  such  a  faith  come,  whence  it 
may,  —  from  the  depths  of  my  own  nature  de- 
manding and  therefore  finding  it,  or  from  the  high 
heavens  disclosing  it  in  compassion  for  my  want, 
— -let  such  a  faith  come  into  my  weary  soul,  and  I 
will  sink  into  a  rest  sweeter,  a  thousand  times 
sweeter,  than  the  repose  of  a  tired  child  in  its 
mother's  arms.  Open  upon  my  spiritual  sense,  O 
thou  vision  of  an  infinite  love,  and  inspire  this  faith 
in  Him  whom  I  call  God,  but  who  has  a  dearer 
name  for  them  to  use  who  know  Him  as  He  may 
be  known  !  EZRA  STILES  GANNETT. 

T  ET  us  trustingly  leave  these  matters,  where, 
indeed,  whether  trustingly  or  not,  we  must 
leave  them,  —  with  the  infinite  Love  which  em- 
braces all  our  loves,  and  the  infinite  Wisdom  which 
comprehends  all  our  needs ;  assured  that  the 
Father  of  the  house  whose  mansions  are  many, 
and  the  Father  of  spirits  whose  goal  is  one,  will 
find  the  right  place  and  connections  and  nurture 
for  every  soul  He  has  caused  to  be ;  that  in  the 
eternities  the  thing  desired  will  arrive  at  last ;  that 
seeking  and  finding  are  divinely  evened.  Let  us 
rest  in  the  thought  that  life  must  be  richer  than  all 
our  experiences,  —  nay,  than  our  fondest  dreams. 

FREDERIC  HENRY  HEDGE. 


192  LEAVES  OF  HEALING, 


Behold,  I  make  all  things  new  / 

SO  speaks  to  thee,  O  heart, 
As  the  swift  years  depart 
The  re-creating  Voice. 
Turn  not  in  vain  regret 
To  thy  fond  yesterdays, 
But  rather  forward  set 
Thy  face  toward  the  untrodden  ways. 
Open  thine  eyes  to  see 
The  good  in  store  for  thee,  — 
New  love,  new  thought,  new  service  too 
For  Him  who  daily  maketh  thy  life  new. 
Nor  think  that  aught  is  lost 
Or  left  behind  upon  the  silent  coast 
Of  thy  spent  years ; 
Give  o'er  thy  faithless  fears. 
Whate'er  of  real  good  — 
Of  thought,  or  deed,  or  holier  mood  — 
Thy  life  hath  known 
Abideth  still  thine  own, 
And  hath  within  significance 
Of  more  than  Time's  inheritance. 
Thy  good  is  prophecy 
Of  better  still  to  be. 
In  the  future  thou  shalt  find 
How  far  the  Fact  hath  left  behind 
Thy  fondest  Dream  ;  how  deeper  than  all  sense 
Or  thought  of  thine,  thy  life's  sure  Providence  ! 
FREDERICK  L.  HOSMER. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  193 


"\1 7"E  make  mistakes,  or  what  we  call  such.  The 
nature  that  could  fall  into  such  mistake 
exactly  needs,  and  in  the  goodness  of  the  dear 
God  is  given,  the  living  of  it  out.  And  beyond 
this,  I  believe  more,  —  that  in  the  pure  and  pa- 
tient living  of  it  out  we  come  to  find  that  we  have 
fallen,  not  into  hopeless  confusion  of  our  own  wild, 
ignorant  making ;  but  that  the  finger  of  God  has 
been  at  work  among  our  lines,  and  that  the  emerg- 
ing is  into  His  blessed  order ;  that  He  is  forever 
making  up  for  us  our  own  undoings;  that  He 
makes  them  up  beforehand;  that  He  evermore 

restoreth  our  souls. 

MRS.  A.  D.  T.  WHITNEY. 

''PHIS  sorrow,  which  has  cut  down  to  the  root, 
has  come,  not  as  a  spoiling  of  your  life,  but 

as  a  preparation  for  it. 

GEORGE  ELIOT. 

WE  will  trust  God.     The  blank  interstices 
Men  take  for  ruins,  He  will  build  into 
With  pillared  marbles  rare,  or  knit  across 
With  generous  arches,  till  the  fane  's  complete. 
ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING 

13 


194  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


shall  never  be  one  lost  good!  what  was, 
A        shall  live  as  before,  — 
On  the  earth  the  broken  arcs  ;  in  the  heaven 

a  perfect  round.  ROBERT  BROWNING. 

0  HEART  of  Love  ! 
Thou  wilt  not  make  of  memory  Hell  in  Heaven, 
But  grant  a  soul,  for  penitential  pain, 
A  sweet  forgetting  of  its  stumbling  steps 
Through  dangerous  darkness  to  the  upper  light; 
And  on  the  brow  Thou  lovest  Thou  wilt  write, 
"  Wear  thou  no  scars,  but  be  thou  pure  and  white." 

ADA  C.  BOWLES, 

AND  do  not  fear  to  hope.     Can  poet's  brain 
More  than  the  Father's  heart  rich  good  invent? 
Each  time  we  smell  the  autumn's  dying  scent 
We  know  the  primrose  time  will  come  again ; 
Not  more  we  hope,  nor  less  would  soothe  our  pain. 
Be  bounteous  in  thy  faith,  for  not  misspent 
Is  confidence  unto  the  Father  lent ; 
Thy  need  is  sown  and  rooted  for  His  rain ; 
His  thoughts  are  as  thine  own  ;  nor  are  His  ways 
Other  than  thine,  but  by  their  loftier  sense 
Of  beauty  infinite  and  love  intense. 
Work  on.     One  day,  beyond  all  thoughts  of  praise, 
A  sunny  joy  will  crown  thee  with  its  rays ; 
Nor  other  than  thy  need,  thy  recompense. 

GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  195 

GOD  is  ever  present,  ever  felt, 
And  where  He  vital  breathes  there  must  be  joy. 
When  even  at  last  the  solemn  hour  shall  come 
And  wing  my  mystic  flight  to  future  worlds, 
I  cheerful  will  obey  ;  there  with  new  powers 
Will  rising  wonders  sing.     I  cannot  go 
Where  Universal  Love  smiles  not  around : 
Sustaining  all  yon  orbs  and  all  their  suns : 
From  seeming  evil  still  educing  good, 
And  better  thence  again,  and  better  still, 
In  infinite  progression.     But  I  lose 
Myself  in  Him,  in  Light  Ineffable  ! 
Come,  then,  expressive  silence  !  muse  His  praise. 

JAMES  THOMSON. 


sense  of  the  Universal  is  the  sense  of  the 
•*•  Divine  everywhere.  We  live  by  faith  in  the 
Divine  thought  and  purpose.  Earth  and  stars, 
sun,  sky  and  air,  plants  and  animals,  the  dust- 
atom  and  man,  are  all  significant  to  us  by  God's 
working  in  them.  The  darker  providence  we  rest 
in  Him  by  faith.  The  thing  of  beauty  we  hail  with 
joy.  The  life  of  virtue,  tenderness,  aspiration,  so 
rich  in  thought,  blessings,  praise  and  prayer,  we 
receive  as  the  divine  pledge  to  man.  Life  be- 
comes more  and  more.  Our  relationships  to  atoms 
and  stars,  creatures  and  men,  are  sacred.  Con- 
scious duties  are  upon  us.  And  more  than  those 


196  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

duties  are  is  God,  in  the  divine  moralities  working 
the  infinite  work.  In  the  faith  in  God,  coming  on 
the  unseen  courses  of  the  Spirit,  man  in  these 
scenes  of  outer  nature,  and  in  living  and  in  dying, 
is  comforted.  God  is  better  and  greater  than  all 
earth's  need,  than  all  human  longing,  need  and 
joy.  SILAS  W.  SUTTON. 

TNEFFABLE  is  the  union  of  man  and  God  in 
•*•  every  act  of  the  soul.  How  dear,  how  sooth- 
ing to  man,  arises  the  idea  of  God,  peopling  the 
lonely  place,  effacing  the  scars  of  our  mistakes  and 
disappointments  !  It  is  the  doubling  of  the  heart 
itself,  —  nay,  the  infinite  enlargement  of  the  heart 
with  a  power  of  growth  to  a  new  infinity  on  every 
side.  It  inspires  in  man  an  infallible  trust.  He 
has  not  the  conviction,  but  the  sight,  that  the  best 
is  the  true,  and  may  in  that  thought  easily  dismiss 
all  particular  uncertainties  and  fears,  and  adjourn 
to  the  sure  revelation  of  time,  the  solution  of  his 
riddles.  He  is  sure  that  his  welfare  is  dear  to  the 
heart  of  being.  He  believes  that  he  cannot  escape 
from  his  good.  The  things  that  are  really  for  thee 
gravitate  to  thee.  You  are  running  to  seek  your 
friend.  Let  your  feet  run,  but  your  mind  need  not. 
If  you  do  not  find  him  will  you  not  acquiesce  that 
it  is  best  you  should  not  find  him?  for  there  is  a 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  197 

Power  which,  as  it  is  in  you,  is  in  'him  also,  and 
could  therefore  very  well  bring  you  together.  You 
are  preparing  to  go  and  render  a  service  to  which 
your  talent  and  your  taste  invite  you.  Has  it  not 
occurred  to  you  that  you  have  no  right  to  go  unless 
you  are  equally  willing  to  be  prevented  from  going  ? , 
O  believe,  as  thou  livest,  that  every  sound  that  is 
spoken  over  the  round  world,  which  thou  oughtest 
to  hear,  will  vibrate  on  thine  ear  !  Every  proverb, 
every  book,  every  byword  that  belongs  to  thee  for 
aid  or  comfort,  surely  shall  come  home  through 
straight  or  winding  passages.  Every  friend  whom 
not  thy  fantastic  will,  but  the  great  and  tender 
heart  in  thee  craveth,  shall  lock  thee  in  his  em- 
brace. And  this  because  the  heart  in  thee  is  the 
heart  of  all ;  not  a  valve,  not  a  wall,  not  an  inter- 
section is  there  anywhere  in  nature,  but  one  Life 
rolls  uninterruptedly  an  endless  circulation  through 
all  men,  as  the  water  of  the  globe  is  all  one  sea, 

and,  truly  seen,  its  tide  is  one. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

TT  came  across  me  the  other  night,  driving  by 
moonlight  through  this  grand  and  solemn  Pass, 
that  one  might  read  those  words,  "  Sorrow  not  even 
as  others  that  have  no  hope,"  in  an  inverse  sense 
to  the  generally  received.  "  Sorrow  not  less,  but 


198  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

more  !  You  who  have  hope  need  not  fear  to 
fathom  the  unfathomableness  of  your  earthly  loss. 
You  who  have  hope  need  never  seek  to  get  rid  of 
your  sacred  Sorrow.  You  may  safely  receive  her, 
a  life-long  inmate  of  your  inmost  heart.  There  she 
will  dwell,  suffering  nothing  low  or  worldly  to  dwell 
with  her.  Sorrow  greatly,  abidingly,  consciously, 
thankfully  —  you  who  have  hope  !  " 

THE  STORY  OF  WILLIAM  AND  LUCY  SMITH. 


rPHE  little  basket,  carried  up  among  the  hills, 
furnished  beneath  the  hand  of  Christ  an 
ample  feast.  And  no  less  a  marvel  does  God 
work  with  all  the  pure  in  heart  who  go  up  into 
the  lonely  place  to  meet  him.  Let  them  have  but 
the  poorest  pilgrim's  unleavened  cake  of  sincerity 
and  faith;  and  when  they  have  spread  their  in- 
sufficiency before  God,  and  broken  it  into  its 
worthlessness  for  his  blessing  to  enter,  they  shall 
return  richer  than  they  came  and  gather  more 
than  they  had  brought.  The  smallest  spiritual 
store,  taken  into  the  most  retired  spot,  has  a 
self-multiplying  power;  and  if  only  used  with 
holy  trust,  will  pass  the  dimensions  of  nature  and 
betray  the  resources  of  the  infinite. 

JAMES  MAR  TINEA u. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  199 

E  may  calmly  front  the  morrow  in  the  negli- 
gency  of  that  trust  which  carries  God  with  it, 
and  so  hath  already  the  whole  future  in  the  bottom 
of  the  heart.  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 


His  children  struggling  faithfully  with  the 
burden  of  life,  His  heavenly  pity  is  ever  on 
the  watch ;  nor  does  He  leave  them  long  in  the 
languor  of  a  weary  mind,  but  comes  Himself  with 
the  blessed  inspiration  that  renews  their  strength 
as  the  eagle's.  There  is  nothing  true  in  earth  or 
heaven  if  it  be  not  a  law  of  His  that  holy  deed 
shall  end  in  holy  thought  and  holy  love  ;  and  pa- 
tient obedience  down  upon  the  dust  mature  the 
rapid  wings  by  which  to  soar  and  gladly  worship 
at  heaven's  gate.  JAMES  MARTINEAU. 


AIT'HEN  a  man  comes  to  the  knowledge  that 
God  is  not  far  off,  but  nearer  to  his  soul 
than  he  can  be  to  the  material  world ;  .  .  .  when 
still  further,  feeling  that  God  by  His  indwelling 
Spirit  is  the  substance  and  support  of  his  dearest 
life,  the  man  sees  the  whole  world  illuminated,  so 
that  the  Eternal  shines  everywhere  through  the 
temporal,  and  nature  is  only  the  vesture  or  Ian- 


2OO  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

guage  of  Spirit,  and  nothing  is  so  certain  as  God's 
thought  and  providence  in  all  things ;  —  and  when 
such  sense  of  the  Infinite  and  such  vision  prompt 
and  nourish  humility  and  prayerfulness  in  the 
heart ;  —  then  life  becomes  a  sacrifice  of  thanksgiv- 
ing, and  a  peace  which  death  does  not  threaten 
and  which  sorrow  cannot  break  broods  in  the 
sanctuary  of  the  soul.  THOMAS  STARR  KING. 


OGOD,  unseen,  but  ever  near, 
Our  blessed  rest  art  Thou ; 
And  we,  in  love  that  hath  no  fear, 

Take  refuge  with  Thee  now. 
All  soiled  with  dust  our  pilgrim  feet. 

And  weary  with  the  way; 
We  seek  Thy  shelter  from  the  heat 
And  burden  of  life's  day. 

Oh,  welcome  in  the  wilderness 

The  shadow  of  Thy  love ; 
The  stream  that  springs  our  thirst  to  bless, 

The  manna  from  above  ! 
Awhile  beside  the  fount  we  stay 

And  eat  this  bread  of  Thine, 
Then  go  rejoicing  on  our  way, 

Renewed  with  strength  divine. 

SAMUEL  LONGFELLOW. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  2OI 


I  LOOK  to  Thee  in  every  need, 
And  never  look  in  vain  ; 
I  feel  Thy  strong  and  tender  love, 

And  all  is  well  again  : 
The  thought  of  Thee  is  mightier  far 
Than  sin  and  pain  and  sorrow  are. 

Discouraged  in  the  work  of  life, 

Disheartened  by  its  load, 
Shamed  by  its  failures  or  its  fears, 

I  sink  beside  the  road  ; 
But  let  me  only  think  of  Thee, 
And  then  new  heart  springs  up  in  me. 

Thy  calmness  bends  serene  above, 

My  restlessness  to  still  ; 
Around  me  flows  Thy  quickening  life, 

To  nerve  my  faltering  will ; 
Thy  presence  fills  my  solitude ; 
Thy  providence  turns  all  to  good. 

Embosomed  deep  in  Thy  dear  love, 

Held  in  Thy  law,  I  stand  ; 
Thy  hand  in  all  things  I  behold, 

And  all  things  in  Thy  hand ; 
Thou  leadest  me  by  unsought  ways, 
And  turn'st  my  mourning  into  praise. 

SAMUEL  LONGFELLOW. 


2O2  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 


Lo  !  amid  the  press, 

The  whirl  and  hum  and  pressure  of  my  day, 
I  hear  Thy  garment's  sweep,  Thy  seamless  dress, 
And  close  beside  my  work  and  weariness 

Discern  Thy  gracious  form,  not  far  away, 
But  very  near,  O  Lord,  to  help  and  bless. 

The  busy  fingers  fly,  the  eye  may  see 

Only  the  glancing  needle  which  they  hold, 

But  all  my  life  is  blossoming  inwardly, 

And  every  breath  is  like  a  litany ; 
While  through  each  labor,  like  a  thread  of  gold, 

Is  woven  the  sweet  consciousness  of  Thee. 

SUSAN  COOLIDGE. 


THATHER,  to  Thee  we  look  in  all  our  sorrow. 
•I-       Thou  art  the  fountain  whence  our  healing  flows  ; 
Dark  though  the  night,  joy  cometh  with  the  morrow ; 
Safely  they  rest  who  on  Thy  love  repose. 

When  fond  hopes  fail  and  skies  are  dark  before  us, 
When  the  vain  cares  that  vex  our  life  increase,  — 

Comes  with  its  calm  the  thought  that  Thou  art  o'er  us, 
And  we  grow  quiet,  folded  in  Thy  peace. 

Nought  shall  affright  us  on  Thy  goodness  leaning, 
Low  in  the  heart  faith  singeth  still  her  song; 

Chastened  by  pain  we  learn  life's  deeper  meaning, 
And  in  our  weakness  Thou  dost  make  us  strong. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  203 

Patient,  O  heart,  though  heavy  be  thy  sorrows  ! 

Be  not  cast  down,  disquieted  in  vain  ; 
Yet  shalt  thou    praise    Him  when   these  darkened 

furrows, 

Where  now  He  plougheth,  wave  with  golden  grain. 

FREDERICK  L.  HOSMER. 


OLOVE  Divine,  of  all  that  is 
The  sweetest  still  and  best, 
Fain  would  I  come  and  rest  to-night 
Upon  thy  tender  breast. 

As  tired  of  sin  as  any  child 

Was  ever  tired  of  play, 
When  evening's  hush  has  folded  in 

The  noises  of  the  day ; 

When,  just  for  very  weariness. 

The  little  one  will  creep 
Into  the  arms  that  have  no  joy 

Like  holding  him  in  sleep ; 

And  looking  upward  to  Thy  face, 
So  gentle,  sweet,  and  strong 

In  all  its  looks  for  those  who  love, 
So  pitiful  of  wrong, 

I  pray  Thee  turn  me  not  away, 

For,  sinful  though  I  be, 
Thou  knowest  everything  I  need 

And  all  my  need  of  Thee. 


2O4  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

And  yet  the  spirit  in  my  heart 

Says,  Wherefore  should  I  pray 
That  Thou  shouldst  seek  me  with  Thy  love, 

Since  Thou  dost  seek  alway  ? 

And  dost  not  even  wait  until 

I  urge  my  steps  to  Thee ; 
But  in  the  darkness  of 'my  life 

Art  coming  still  to  me, 

And  still  Thy  love  will  beckon  me, 

And  still  Thy  strength  will  come 
In  many  ways  to  bear  me  up 

And  bring  me  to  my  home. 

I  pray  not,  then,  because  I  would ; 

I  pray  because  I  must ; 
There  is  no  meaning  in  my  prayer 

But  thankfulness  and  trust. 

And  Thou  wilt  hear  the  thought  I  mean, 

And  not  the  words  I  say ; 
Wilt  hear  the  thanks  among  the  words 

That  only  seem  to  pray ; 

And  still,  for  all  my  sighs,  my  heart 

Has  sung  itself  to  rest, 
O  Love  Divine,  most  far  and  near, 

Upon  Thy  tender  breast. 

JOHN  W.  CHADWICK. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  2Q$ 


WIEGENLIED. 

BE  still  and  sleep,  my  soul ! 
Now  gentle-footed  Night 
In  softly  shadowed  stole 

Holds  all  the  day  from  sight. 

Why  shouldst  thou  lie  and  stare 

Against  the  dark,  and  toss, 
And  live  again  thy  care, 

Thine  agony  and  loss  ? 

'T  was  given  thee  to  live, 

And  thou  hast  lived  it  all ; 
Let  that  suffice,  nor  give 

One  thought  what  may  befall. 

Thou  hast  no  need  to  wake, 

Thou  art  no  sentinel ; 
Love  all  the  care  will  take, 

And  Wisdom  watcheth  well. 

Weep  not,  think  not,  but  rest ! 

The  stars  in  silence  roll; 
On  the  world's  mother-breast, 

Be  still  and  sleep,  my  soul ! 

EDWARD  ROWLAND  SILL. 


2O6  LEAVES   OF  HEALING. 


FOR  His  great  love  has  compassed 
Our  nature  and  our  need ; 
We  know  not ;  but  He  knoweth, 
And  He  will  bless  indeed. 

Therefore,  O  Heavenly  Father, 

Give  what  is  best  to  me ; 
And  take  the  wants  unanswered 

As  offerings  made  to  Thee. 

ANON. 


HE  LEADETH    ME. 

IN  pastures  green  ?    Not  always ;  sometimes  He, 
Who  knoweth  best,  in  kindness  leadeth  me 
In  weary  ways,  where  heavy  shadows  be. 

Out  of  the  sunshine  warm  and  soft  and  bright;  — 
Out  of  the  sunshine  into  darkest  night : 
I  oft  would  faint  with  sorrow  and  affright, 

Only  for  this  —  I  know  He  holds  my  hand ; 
So,  whether  led  in  green  or  desert  land, 
I  trust,  although  I  may  not  understand. 

And  by  still  waters  ?     No,  not  always  so ; 
Oft  times  the  heavy  tempests  round  me  blow, 
And  o'er  my  soul  the  waves  and  billows  go. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  2O/ 

But  when  the  storm  beats  highest,  and  I  cry 
Aloud  for  help,  the  Master  standeth  by, 
And  whispers  to  my  soul :  "  Lo,  it  is  I." 

Above  the  tempest  wild  I  hear  Him  say, 
"  Beyond  the  darkness  lies  the  perfect  day ; 
In  every  path  of  thine  I  lead  the  way." 

So  whether  on  the  hill-tops  high  and  fair 

I  dwell,  or  in  the  sunless  valleys  where 

The  shadows  lie  —  what  matter  ?    He  is  there. 

So  where  He  leads  me  I  can  safely  go; 
And  in  the  blest  hereafter  I  shall  know 
Why  in  His  wisdom  He  hath  led  me  so. 

HENRY  H.  BARRY. 


BEFORE   THE   DAWN. 

L/EAR  Lord,  I  bring  to  Thee 
This  life  that  from  Thine  own  its  being  drew ; 
All  I  have  been,  all  aspirations  new, 

All  I  may  ever  be. 

I  lay  at  Thy  dear  feet 

My  past,  with  all  its  hopes  and  cares  and  needs, 
Its  purposes,  that  failed  like  broken  reeds, 

Its  record  incomplete. 


2O8  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

This  tangled  web  of  mine 
Wherein  I  find  so  little  good  or  fair, 
May  yet,  if  trusted  to  Thy  love  and  care, 

Take  on  a  light  divine. 

The  weary  sense  of  wrong, 
Which   through  the  long,  long  night  maintained  its 

sway, 
Has  vanished  in  the  light  of  breaking  day, 

And  left  instead  a  song. 

And  "  through  the  glass  "  I  see 
That  even  my  mistakes,  my  faults  and  sins, 
Have  taught  me  how  Thy  comforting  begins 

And  shown  the  way  to  Thee. 

My  future,  Lord,  I  bring ; 
May  it  be  purified  by  Thy  dear  love, 
Although  the  sacred  baptism  from  above 

Be  one  of  suffering. 

What  harm  can  ever  come 
To  us,  who  know  Thy  love  can  have  no  end? 
Thou  leadest  us,  an  ever-present  Friend, 

Unto  the  light  of  Home. 

How  all  these  wrongs  we  see 
Can  lead  to  right,  I  do  not  understand ; 
But,  e'er  the  daylight  breaks,  I  clasp  Thy  hand 

And  trust  myself  to  Thee. 

EMMA  E.  MAREAN. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST. 

GOD 

Be  praised  for  anguish,  which  has  tried 
For  beauty,  which  has  satisfied :  — 

For  this  world's  presence,  half  within 
And  half  without  me  —  thought  and  scene  — 
This  sense  of  Being  and  Having  been. 

I  thank  Thee  that  my  soul  hath  room 
For  Thy  grand  world.     Both  guests  may  come 
Beauty  to  soul  —  Body  to  tomb. 

I  am  content  to  be  so  weak. 
Put  strength  into  the  words  I  speak, 
And  I  am  strong  in  what  I  seek. 

I  am  content  to  be  so  bare 
Before  the  archers,  everywhere 
My  wounds  being  stroked  by  heavenly  air. 

I  laid  my  soul  before  Thy  feet, 
That  Images  of  fair  and  sweet 
Should  walk  to  other  men  on  it. 

I  am  content  to  feel  the  step 
Of  each  pure  Image!  — let  those  keep 
To  mandragore,  who  care  to  sleep. 

I  am  content  to  touch  the  brink 
Of  the  other  goblet,  and  I  think 
My  bitter  drink  a  wholesome  drink. 


2 1 0  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

Because  my  portion  was  assigned 
Wholesome  and  bitter —  Thou  art  kind, 
And  I  am  blessed  to  my  mind. 

Gifted  for  giving,  I  receive 
The  maythorn,  and  its  scent  outgive. 
I  grieve  not  that  I  once  did  grieve. 

In  my  large  joy  of  sight  and  touch 
Beyond  what  others  count  for  such, 
I  am  content  to  suffer  much. 

I  know  —  is  all  the  mourner  saith, 
Knowledge  by  suffering  entereth  ; 
And  Life  is  perfected  by  Death. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 


THE   HILLS   OF   THE   LORD. 

GOD  ploughed  one  day  with  an  earthquake, 
And  drove  His  furrows  deep  ! 
The  huddling  plains  upstarted, 
The  hills  were  all  a-leap  ! 

But  that  is  the  mountains'  secret, 

Age-hidden  in  their  breast ; 
"  God's  peace  is  everlasting  " 

Are  the  dream-words  of  their  rest. 

He  hath  made  them  the  haunt  of  beauty, 

The  home  elect  of  His  grace ; 
He  spreadeth  His  mornings  on  them, 

His  sunsets  light  their  face. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  211 

The  people  of  tired  cities 

Come  up  to  their  shrines  and  pray  * 
God  freshens  again  within  them, 

As  He  passes  by  all  day. 

And  lo,  I  have  caught  their  secret, 

The  beauty  deeper  than  all, 
This  faith,  — that  life's  hard  moments, 

When  the  jarring  sorrows  befall, 

Are  but  God  ploughing  His  mountains; 

And  the  mountains  yet  shall  be 
The  source  of  His  grace  and  freshness 

And  His  peace  everlasting  to  me. 

WILLIAM  C.  GANNETT. 


HOW  beautiful  it  is  to  be  alive  ! 
To  wake  each  morn,  as  if  the  Maker's  grace 
Did  us  afresh  from  nothingness  derive, 

That  we  might  sing,  "  How  happy  is  our  case ! 
How  beautiful  it  is  to  be  alive  ! " 

Lo !  all  around  us  His  bright  servants  stand  : 
And  if  with  frowning  brows  for  their  disguise, 
Yet  with  such  wells  of  love  in  their  deep  eyes, 

And  so  strong  rescue  hidden  in  their  hands ! 

And  ever  towards  man's  height  of  nobleness 

They  strive  some  new  progression  to  contrive ; 
Till,  just  as  any  other  friend's,  we  press 
Death's  hand  ;  and  having  died,  feel  none  the  less 

How  beautiful  it  is  to  be  alive  ! 

HENRY  SEPTIMUS  SUTTON. 


212  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


MY    PSALM. 

ALL  as  God  wills,  who  wisely  heeds 
To  give  or  to  withhold, 
And  knoweth  more  of  all  my  needs 
Than  all  my  prayers  have  told  ! 

Enough  that  blessings  undeserved 
Have  marked  my  erring  track  ;  — 

That  wheresoe'er  my  feet  have  swerved, 
His  chastening  turned  me  back  ;  — 

That  more  and  more  a  Providence 

Of  love  is  understood, 
Making  the  springs  of  time  and  sense 

Sweet  with  eternal  good  ;  — 

That  death  seems  but  a  covered  way 

Which  opens  into  light, 
Wherein  no  blinded  child  can  stray 

Beyond  the  Father's  sight ;  — 

That  care  and  trial  seem  at  last, 
Through  Memory's  sunset  air, 

Like  mountain-ranges  overpast, 
In  purple  distance  fair  ;  — 

That  all  the  jarring  notes  of  life 

Seem  blending  in  a  psalm, 
And  all  the  angles  of  its  strife 

Slow  rounding  into  calm. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  213 

And  so  the  shadows  fall  apart, 

And  so  the  west  winds  play ; 
And  all  the  windows  of  my  heart 

I  open  to  the  day. 

JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER. 

AS  the  bird  trims  her  to  the  gale, 
I  trim  myself  to  the  storm  of  time, 
I  man  the  rudder,  reef  the  sail, 
Obey  the  voice  at  eve  obeyed  at  prime : 
"  Lowly  faithful,  banish  fear, 
Right  onward  drive  unharmed; 
The  port,  well  worth  the  cruise,  is  near, 
And  every  wave  is  charmed." 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON. 

BE  like  the  bird  that,  halting  in  her  flight 
Awhile,  on  boughs  too  slight, 
Feels  them  give  way  beneath  her,  and  yet  sings, 

Knowing  that  she  hath  wings. 

VICTOR  HUGO. 

OUFFERING  loses  its  smart  before  genuine 
^  trust.  Trust  proves  its  strength  in  suffering. 
True  trust  is  struck  by  suffering  as  the  great  tree 
of  the  forest  by  the  storm,  to  be  tossed,  torn,  and 
settled  deeper  in  everlasting  strength.  The  suffer- 
ing is  for  a  little  while,  while  the  trust  is  trans- 
formed into  eternal  joy. 

PROTAP  CHUNDER  MOZOOMDAR. 


214  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


MY  MOTHER'S  HYMN. 

T  IKE  patient  saint  of  olden  time, 

-L'    With  lovely  face  almost  divine, 

So  good,  so  beautiful  and  fair, 

Her  very  attitude  a  prayer  ;  — 

I  heard  her  sing,  so  low  and  sweet, 

"  His  loving-kindness  —  oh,  how  great !  " 

Turning,  beheld  the  sacred  face, 

So  full  of  trust  and  patient  grace. 

"  He  justly  claims  a  song  from  me, 
His  loving-kindness,  —  oh,  how  free  !  " 
Sweetly  thus  did  run  the  song, 

"  His  loving-kindness,"  all  day  long. 
Trusting,  praising,  day  by  day, 
She  sang  the  sweetest  roundelay  : 
"He  near  my  soul  has  always  stood, 
His  loving-kindness  —  oh,  how  good  ! " 

"  He  safely  leads  my  soul  along, 

His  loving-kindness  —  oh,  how  strong  !  " 

So  strong  to  lead  her  on  the  way 

To  that  eternal  better  day, 

Where,  safe  at  last  in  that  blest  home,  — 

All  care  and  weariness  are  gone,  — 

She  sings  with  rapture  and  surprise 

"  His  loving-kindness  "  in  the  skies. 

ANON. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  215 

IN  heavenly  love  abiding, 
No  change  my  heart  shall  fear ; 
And  safe  is  such  confiding, 

For  nothing  changes  here. 
The  storm  may  roar  without  me, 

My  heart  may  low  be  laid ; 
But  God  is  round  about  me, 
And  can  I  be  dismayed  ? 


Wherever  He  may.  guide  me, 

No  want  shall  turn  me  back ; 
My  Shepherd  is  beside  me, 

And  nothing  can  I  lack. 
His  wisdom  ever  waketh, 

His  sight  is  never  dim ; 
He  knows  the  way  He  taketh, 

And  I  will  walk  with  him. 


Green  pastures  are  before  me, 

Which  yet  I  have  not  seen  ; 
Bright  skies  will  soon  be  o'er  me, 

Where  darkest  clouds  have  been. 
My  hope  I  cannot  measure, 

My  path  in  life  is  free, 
My  Father  has  my  treasure, 

And  He  will  walk  with  me. 

ANNA  L.  WARING. 


2l6  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


AS  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks, 
So  panteth  my  soul  after  Thee,  O  God. 

My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living  God : 

When  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  God? 

O  my  God,  my  soul  is  cast  down  within  me : 

Deep  calleth  unto  deep  at  the  noise  of  Thy  water- 
spouts : 

All  Thy  waves  and  Thy  billows  are  gone  over  me. 

Yet  the  Lord  will  command  His  loving-kindness  in  the 
daytime, 

And  in  the  night  His  song  shall  be  with  me, 

Even  a  prayer  unto  the  God  of  my  life. 

O  send  out  Thy  light  and  Thy  truth ;  let  them  lead 
me,  — 

Unto  God,  my  exceeding  joy. 

Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul  ? 

And  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me  ? 

Hope  thou  in  God :  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him, 

Who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance,  and  my  God. 

THE  PSALMS. 


O  FATHER,  I  have  nought  to  plead, 
In  earth  beneath  or  heaven  above, 
But  just  my  own  exceeding  need, 
And  Thy  exceeding  love. 

JANE  Fox  CREWDSON. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  2 1/ 


TUST  as  I  am,  —  without  one  plea 
J      Save  that  Thy  love  is  seeking  me, 
And  that  Thou  bid'st  me  come  to  Thee,  — 
O  loving  God !  I  come. 

Just  as  I  am,  —  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  Thee  whose  love  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  loving  God  !  I  come. 

Just  as  I  am,  —  though  tossed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt, 
Fightings  within,  and  fears  without, — 
O  loving  God  !  I  come. 

Just  as  I  am,  —  Thou  wilt  receive, 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  heal,  relieve  ; 
Because  Thy  promise  I  believe, 
O  loving  God !  I  come. 

HYMNS  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


n^HE  "  uncovenanted  mercies  of  God,"  —  we 
desire  no  less;  we  hope  for  no  better. 
Those  are  the  mercies  beyond  our  height,  beyond 
our  depth,  beyond  our  reach.  We  know  in  whom 
we  have  believed,  and  we  look  for  that  which  it 
hath  not  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  con- 
ceive. Shall  God's  thought  be  surpassed  by  man's 


2 1 8  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 

thoughts?  God's -giving  by  man's  asking?  God's 
creation  by  man's  imagination?  No.  Let  us 
climb  to  the  height  of  our  Alpine  desires ;  let  us 
leave  them  behind  us  and  ascend  the  spear-pointed 
Himalayas  of  our  aspirations ;  still  shall  we  find 
the  depth  of  God's  sapphire  above  us ;  still  shall 
we  find  the  heavens  higher  than  the  earth,  and  His 
thoughts  and  His  ways  higher  than  our  thoughts 
and  our  ways. 

Ah,  Lord  !  be  Thou  in  all  our  being ;  as  not  in 
the  Sundays  of  our  time  alone,  so  not  in  the  cham- 
bers of  our  hearts  alone.  We  dare  not  think  that 
Thou  canst  not,  carest  not ;  that  some  things  are 
not  for  Thy  beholding,  some  questions  not  to  be 
asked  of  Thee.  For  are  we  not  all  Thine  —  utterly 
Thine  ?  That  which  a  man  speaks  not  to  his  fel- 
low, we  speak  to  Thee.  Our  very  passions  we 
hold  up  to  Thee,  and  say,  "  Behold,  Lord  !  Think 
about  us."  We  would  not  escape  from  our  history 
by  fleeing  into  the  wilderness,  by  hiding  our 
heads  in  the  sands  of  forgetfulness,  or  the  repent- 
ance that  comes  of  pain,  or  the  lethargy  of  hope- 
lessness. We  take  it,  as  our  very  life,  in  our  hand, 
and  flee  with  it  unto  Thee.  Triumphant  is  the 
answer  which  thou  boldest  for  every  doubt.  It 
may  be  we  could  not  understand  it  yet,  even  if 
Thou  didst  speak  it  "  with  most  miraculous  organ." 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  21$ 

But  Thou  shall  at  least  find  faith  in  the  earth,  O 
Lord,  if  Thou  comest  to  look  for  it  now,  —  the 
faith  of  ignorant  but  hoping  children,  who  know 
that  they  do  not  know,  and  believe  that  Thou 
knowest.  GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 

"IT /"HAT  a  beautiful  picture  !  (Psalm  xxiii.)  Its 
*  *  author  felt  that  he,  at  least,  had  found  in 
all  the  confusion  of  the  world  some  one  to  guard 
and  guide  him.  Henceforth  there  are  to  be  for 
him  no  haunting,  unsatisfied  longings :  "  I  shall 
not  want."  "  For  His  name's  sake,"  —  because  of 
what  He  is  in  Himself,  His  own  goodness,  —  He 
guides  me  ever  in  right  paths.  Though  my  way 
be  through  darkest  shadows,  I  will  have  no  fear ; 
He  knows,  leads,  and  comforts  me.  However 
numerous  my  enemies,  however  helpless  I  seem  in 
their  presence,  whatever  adverse  circumstances 
close  me  round,  He  spreads  my  table  of  supply  even 
in  their  very  presence.  My  head  is  anointed  as  one 
prepared  for  a  festival.  My  cup  of  gratitude  run- 
neth over.  The  future  has  no  fears  for  me;  for 
only  goodness  and  mercy  will  follow  me  —  attend- 
ants about  my  pathway  —  all  the  days  of  my  life. 
And  as  a  guest,  I  will  dwell  in  the  house  of  this 
mighty  Helper  and  Friend  forever.  And  all  the 
way  through  is  a  lingering,  haunting  suggestion  of 


22O  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

plenty  and  peace  and  perfect  rest.  We  see  the 
background  of  "  green  pastures,"  while  the  floating 
cloud  of  the  calm  sky  by  day,  and  the  quiet  stars 
by  night,  are  reflected  in  the  "  still  waters ;  "  —  or 
as  the  margin  has  it,  the  "waters  of  rest." 

MINOT  J.  SAVAGE. 

WAIT   ON   THE   LORD. 

Wait  on  the  Lord !  Be  of  good  courage  and  He 
shall  strengthen  thy  heart.  Wait,  I  say,  on  the  Lord. 
PSALM  xxvii.  14. 

UPON  the  Psalmist's  word 
A  Rabbin's  voice  is  heard 
Commenting,  saying 
To  souls  praying, 
"Ora 

Et  iterum  or  a; 
Veniet  hora 
Qua  tibi  dabitur" 

I  hear  a  Master's  speech 
The  same  faith  teach  — 
A  Master  dear  to  heart, 
Standing  far  apart, 
So  great,  so  high  above, 
And  yet  with  lowly  men 
Living,  in  toil  and  pain, 
In  meekness  and  in  love. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  221 

He  saith,  "  Ask,  it  shall  be  given; 

Seek,  ye  shall  find  in  heaven; 

Knock,  it  shall  opened  be." 

But  not  so  sweet  to  know 

The  Master's  lips  have  spoken  thus  or  so 

As  my  soul  leaps  to  see 

He  speaketh  like  to  all  the  holy  men  : 

And  softly  comes  again, 

Like  an  echo  in  my  ear, 

The  song  of  Hebrew  seer, 

"  Ora 

Et  iterum  or  a; 

Veniet  hora 

Qua  tibi dabitur" 

O  when  the  soul  is  faint, 

When  visions  die, 

When  life  is  wrecked  upon  complaint, 

And  scattered  lie 

Hope's  arrows  —  years  long, 

With  purpose  strong, 

Kept  bound  within  one  sheaf  — 

When  pain  and  loss  and  grief 

Prey  on  us, 

When  thought  and  doubt  and  love 

Weigh  on  us, 

Then  hear  all  sounds  above, 

"  Ora, 

Et  iterum  or  a; 

Veniet  hora 

Qua  tibi  dabitur."  JAMES  VILA  BLAKE. 


222  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 


SOMETIME,   SOMEWHERE. 

UNANSWERED  yet?  the  prayer  your  lips  have 
pleaded 

In  agony  of  heart  these  many  years  ? 
Doth  faith  begin  to  fail ;  is  hope  departing, 

And  think  you  all  in  vain  those  falling  tears  ? 
Say  not  the  Father  hath  not  heard  your  prayer  ; 
You  shall  have  your  desire  sometime,  somewhere. 

Unanswered  yet  ?  though  when  you  first  presented 
This  one  petition  at  the  Father's  throne, 

It  seemed  you  could  not  wait  the  time  of  asking, 
So  urgent  was  your  heart  to  make  it  known. 

Though  years  have  passed  since  then,  do  not  despair, 

The  Lord  will  answer  you  sometime,  somewhere. 

Unanswered  yet  ?     Nay,  do  not  say  ungranted  ; 

Perhaps  your  part  is  not  wholly  done. 
The  work  began  when  first  your  prayer  was  uttered, 

And  God  will  finish  what  He  has  begun. 
If  you  will  keep  the  incense  burning  there, 
His  glory  you  shall  see  sometime,  somewhere. 

Unanswered  yet  ?     Faith  cannot  be  unanswered. 

Her  feet  were  firmly  planted  on  the  Rock. 
Amid  the  wildest  storms  she  stands  undaunted, 

Nor  quails  before  the  loudest  thunder  shock. 
She  knows  Omnipotence  has  heard  her  prayer, 
And  cries  "  It  shall  be  done  !  —  sometime,  somewhere." 

ROBERT  BROWNING. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  22$ 

IF  human  minds  look  out  into  the  darkness 
And  gather  rays  of  truth,  't  is  His  sight  sees ; 
If  human  hearts  do  love,  't  is  His  love  loves ; 
'T  is  His  joy  joys,  when  joyful  hearts  rejoice  ; 
He  is  eye's  eye,  heart's  heart  and  being's  being. 

It  cannot  be  but  grief  and  pain  will  come : 

We  know  not  how  to  strive  and  never  fail ; 

We  know  not  how  to  have  and  not  to  lose ; 

There  is  no  way  to  love  and  not  to  fear ; 

There  is  no  way  to  love  and  not  to  feel 

The  pangs  of  parting  when  seas  roll  between, 

Or  when  in  vain  we  seek  a  faithless  love, 

Or  when  —  less  loss  —  the  sky-pits  yawn,  and  friends 

Fall  out  of  sight  into  their  blue  abyss. 

Then  the  One  Lord  takes  up  our  weary  woes 

As  he  takes  up  the  isles,  or  steers  a  star. 

So  wonderful  his  laws  that  he  hath  ways 

To  cope  with  our  great  pain. 

God  hath  two  temples  — 
The  infinite  of  starry  heavens,  one, 
Where  shining  ranks  of  servants  throng  and  move 
In  unimaginable  multitudes 
At  His  command :  the  lowly  soul 
The  other,  where  He  hath  made  His  mercy-seat. 
One  Life  and  Love  He  is  through  all  that  vast, 
From  star  to  heart.     Swifter  than  light 
Or  thought  He  comes  from  some  great  sun  convulsed, 
To  hold  a  heart  that  it  break  not  too  far. 


224  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 

He  weighs  it  in  His  hand  against  a  world ; 
It  is  as  heavy  to  the  Lord  as  all 
His  suns  if  it  the  more  hath  need  of  healing. 
Praise  !  Praise  !  Thanksgiving !  Praise  !  Amen ! 

JAMES  VILA  BLAKE. 


A   BIRTHDAY   PRAYER. 

ART  Thou  the  Life? 
To  Thee,  then,  do  I  owe  each  beat  and  breath, 
And  wait  Thy  ordering  of  my  hour  of  death 
In  peace  or  strife. 

Art  Thou  the  Light  ? 

To  Thee,  then,  in  the  sunshine  or  the  cloud, 
Or  in  my  chamber  lone  or  in  the  crowd, 

I  lift  my  sight. 

Art  Thou  the  Truth  ? 

To  Thee,  then,  loved  and  craved  and  sought  of  yore, 
I  consecrate  my  manhood,  o'er  and  o'er, 

As  erst  my  youth. 

Art  Thou  the  Strong  ? 

To  Thee,  then,  though  the  air  be  thick  with  night, 
I  trust  the  seeming  unprotected  Right, 

And  leave  the  Wrong. 

Art  Thou  the  Wise  ? 

To  Thee,  then,  would  I  bring  each  useless  care, 
And  bid  my  soul  unsay  her  idle  prayer, 

And  hush  her  cries. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  22$ 

Art  Thou  the  Good? 

To  Thee,  then,  with  a  thirsting  heart  I  turn, 
And  at  Thy  fountain  stand  and  hold  my  urn, 

As  aye  I  stood. 

Forgive  the  call ! 

I  cannot  shut  Thee  from  my  sense  or  soul, 
I  cannot  lose  me  in  the  boundless  whole, 

For  Thou  art  All. 

FRANCIS  E.  ABBOT. 


THERE  'S  ajwideness  in  God's  mercy, 
Like  the  wideness  of  the  sea : 
There's  a  kindness  in  His  justice, 
Which  is  more  than  liberty. 

For  the  love  of  God  is  broader 
Than  the  measures  of  man's  mind ; 

And  the  heart  of  the  Eternal 
Is  most  wonderfully  kind. 

If  our  love  were  but  more  simple, 
We  should  take  Him  at  His  word, 

And  our  lives  would  be  all  sunshine 
In  the  sweetness  of  our  Lord. 

FREDERICK  WILLIAM  FABER. 


GOD'S  greatness  flows  around  our  incompleteness, 
Round  our  restlessness,  His  rest. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 
'5 


226  LEA  VES  OF  HEALING. 


THE   THOUGHT   OF   GOD. 

ONE  thought  I  have,  my  ample  creed, 
So  deep  it  is  and  broad, 
And  equal  to  my  every  need,  — 
It  is  the  thought  of  God. 

Each  morn  unfolds  some  fresh  surprise, 

I  feast  at  Life's  full  board ; 
And  rising  in  my  inner  skies 

Shines  forth  the  thought  of  God. 

At  night  my  gladness  is  my  prayer ; 

I  drop  my  daily  load, 
And  every  care  is  pillowed  there 

Upon  the  thought  of  God. 

I  ask  not  far  before  to  see, 

But  take  in  trust  my  road  ; 
Life,  death,  and  immortality 

Are  in  my  thought  of  God. 

To  this  their  secret  strength  they  owed 

The  martyr's  path  who  trod  ; 
The  fountains  of  their  patience  flowed 

From  out  their  thought  of  God. 

Be  still  the  light  upon  my  way, 

My  pilgrim  staff  and  rod, 
My  rest  by  night,  my  strength  by  day, 

O  blessed  thought  of  God ! 

FREDERICK  L.  HOSMER. 


THE  PERFECT  TRUST.  22? 


I   REPORT,  as  a  man  may  of  God's  work  — all's 
love,  yet  all 's  law ! 

Now  I  lay  down  the  judgeship  he  lent  me.    Each  fac- 
ulty tasked 

To  perceive  him,  has  gained  an  abyss,  when  a  dew- 
drop  was  asked. 

Have  I  knowledge  ?  confounded  it  shrivels  at  wisdom 
laid  bare. 

Have  I  forethought  ?  how  purblind,  how  blank,  to  the 
Infinite  care ! 

Do  I  task  any  faculty  highest  to  image  success? 

I  but  open  my  eyes,  —  and  perfection,  no  more  and  no 
less, 

In  the  kind  I  imagined,  full-fronts  me,  and  God  is  seen 
God 

In  the  star,  in  the  stone,  in  the  flesh,  in  the  soul  and 
the  clod. 

And  thus  looking  within  and  around  me,  I  ever  renew 

(With  that  stoop  of  the  soul  which  in  bending  upraises 
it  too) 

The  submission  of  man's  nothing-perfect  to  God's  All- 
Complete, 

As  by  each  new  obeisance  in  spirit,  I  climb  to  his 
feet. 

ROBERT  BROWNING. 


228  LEAVES  OF  HEALING. 


TITHEN  ye  glorify  the  Lord,  exalt  Him  as  much 
as  ye  can ;  for  even  yet  He  will  far  exceed  : 
and  when  ye  exalt  Him,  put  forth  all  your  strength 
and  be  not  weary,  for  ye  can  never  go  far  enough  : 
there  are  yet  greater  things  than  these  be,  for  we 
have  seen  but  a  few  of  His  works. 

All  the  works  of  the  Lord  are  good,  so  that  a 
man  cannot  say,  This  is  worse  than  that;  for  in 
time  they  shall  all  be  well  approved. 

Therefore  praise  ye  the  Lord  with  the  whole 
heart.  Bless  the  name  of  the  Lord. 

ECCLESIASTICUS. 


WHEN  ye  pray,  say,  Father.  JESUS. 


Blessed  be  God,  the  Father  of  mercies  and  God 
of  all  comfort,  who  comforteth  us  in  all  our  afflic- 
tion, that  we  may  be  able  to  comfort  them  that  are 
in  any  affliction,  through  the  comfort  wherewith  we 
ourselves  are  comforted  of  God,  —  2  COR.  i.  3,  4. 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS. 


PAGE 

ABBOT,  FRANCIS  E 224 

Allen,  Joseph  Henry 36 

Ames,  Charles  G 90 

Ancient  Hebrew  Ritual 143 

Anonymous 109,  206,  214 

Arnold,  Edwin 63,  69,  93,  131 

Arnold,  Matthew 188 

Barry,  Henry  H 206 

Bassi,  Ugo 50 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward 73 

Bellows,  Henry  W 46,  47,  85,  156 

Bible  .    .    .    n,  23,  57,  61,  78,  81,  93,  101,  113,  117,  119, 
123,  143,  152,  155,  164,  167,  179,  183,  216,  228,  229 

Blake,  James  Vila 220,  223 

Bonar,  Horatius 112,  114 

Borthwick,  Jane 163 

Bourg,  Anne  du 92 

Bowles,  Ada  C 194 

Brooke,  Stopford  A 48 

Brooks,  Charles  T 137 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett    .     54,  100,  104,  193,  209,  225 
Browning,  Robert 100,  169,194,  222,  227 


232  INDEX  OF  AUTHORS. 

PAGE 

Bryant,  William  Cullen in 

Burleigh,  William  H 172 

Calthrop,  Samuel  R 159 

Camp,  Stephen  H 1 1 

Canticles 123 

Carlyle,  Thomas      .    .     . 32,  83,  127,  167 

Gary,  Alice 68 

Chadwick,  John  W 102,  184,  203 

Channing,  William  Ellery 33,  92,  101,  160 

Channing,  William  Henry 129 

Chapin,  Edwin  H 38 

Clarke,  James  Freeman 168,  169,  178 

Cobbe,  Frances  Power 33 

Collyer,  Robert       17,  1 8,  42,  123,  184 

Coolidge,  Susan 163,  202 

Craik,  Dinah  Muloch 185 

Crewdson,  Jane  Fox 216 

Crum,  Amos 151 

Digby,  Kenelm  Henry 160 

D.,  M.  L 108 

Ecclesiasticus 228 

Eliot,  George 32,  33,  55,  193 

Elliott,  Charlotte 163 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo  ...       21,  39,  119,  196,  199,  213 

Faber,  Frederick  William 225 

Frothingham,  Octavius  Brooks 63 

Fuller,  Margaret 172 

Furness,  William  H 155 

Gannett,  Ezra  Stiles 190 

Gannett,  William  C 73,  97,  210 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS.  233 

PAGE 

Gaskell,  William 177 

Greg,  William  R 34 

Guyon,  Madame .     152 

Hale,  Edward  Everett 87 

Hedge,  Frederic  Henry 191 

Hemans,  Felicia  D 115 

Hinton,  James 18 

Holland,  J.  G 29 

Hosmer,  Frederick  L 24,  71,  98,  192,  202,  226 

How,  William  Walsham 118 

Hugo,  Victor 213 

Ingelow,  Jean 37,  129, 158 

Jackson,  Helen  Hunt 102,  157 

Johnson,  Samuel 77,  78,  175 

Jones,  Jenkin  Lloyd 35 

Kemble,  Frances  Anne 76 

King,  Harriet  Eleanor  Hamilton 50 

King,  Thomas  Starr 199 

Larcom,  Lucy 31,  171 

Livermore,  Abiel  A 24 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wads  worth 68,  128,  136 

Longfellow,  Samuel 200,  201,  217 

Lowell,  James  Russell     .    .    .     .      14,  26,  8 1,  99,  134,  169 
Lowell,  Maria  White 106 

Mac  Donald,  George 62,  148,  173,  194,  217 

Manning,  Henry  Edward 31 

Marean,  Emma  E 207 

Martineau,  James    . Ij,  32, 167,  198,  199 

Matson,  William  Tidd .     179 


234  INDEX  OF  AUTHORS. 

PAGE 

Merriam,  George  S 12,27,84 

Milton,  John 34 

Monsell,  J.  S.  B 177 

Morehouse,  Daniel  W 160 

Morris,  Edwin 150 

Mountford,  William 89 

Mozoomdar,  Protap  Chunder 213 

Monger,  Theodore  T 84,  85 

Neale,  John  Mason 117 

Newman,  John  Henry 40 

Parker,  Theodore 13, 144, 184 

Peabody,  Andrew  P.    .    . 125,  126,  138,  139 

Ferris,  Henry  Woods 39,  88 

Perry,  Nora 119 

Putnam,  Alfred  P 112 

Ruskin,  John 185 

Salis,  Johann  Gaudenz  von 68 

Savage,  Minot  J 219 

Sears,  Edmund  H 124 

Schmolke,  Benjamin 163 

Scudder,  Eliza 176 

Shipton,  Anna 158 

Sill,  Edward  Rowland 205 

Smith,  Lucy 75,  197 

Spencer,  Carl 67 

Staples,  Nahor  Augustus 17, 184 

Stowe,  Harriet  Beecher 175 

Sutton,  Henry  Septimus 30,211 

Sutton,  Silas  W 82, 83, 195 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS.  235 

PAGB 

Tennyson,  Alfred 30,96,186 

Thomas,  H.  W 61 

Thorn,  John  Hamilton 21,45 

Thomson,  James 195 

Trench,  Richard  Chenevix 178 

Utter,  David  N 89 

Vere,  Aubrey  de 15 

Ware,  John  F.  W 55, 183 

Waring,  Anna  L 183, 215 

Weiss,  John 84 

Wendte,  Charles  W 13,72 

Whitney,  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.   .    .     .      16,  92,  101,  128,  161,  193 
Whittier,  John  Greenleaf     .    .     88,  no,  150,152,  158,  162, 

189,  212 

Willard,  Emma  Hart 91 

Williams,  Theodore  C 130 

Winter,  William 66 

Wisdom 145 

Wood,  Everett  0 29 

Wordsworth,  William 89,116,186 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


*  tam    bed    r-v;  .-.•.-:        •,    .V    ;.    -:< 


ABIMXG  IN  GOP  ....    77, 78,  rifr,  173-183, 190, 191, 

..v-.v*.  .-•  5 

A  Birthday  Prayer 2i4 

Abraham 93 

*  Absence 76 

Against  the  Sky . 178 

*tA  Message  from  the  Dead 93 

Anne  du  Bourg 93 

*A  Requiem 99 

Aspiration 55. 162-164,  167-150,  216-519 

Athanasta 90 

*A  Year  in  Heaven ioS 

Before  the  Dawn a<^ 

Behind  and  Before 24 

Broote,  Charlotte iS 

Channing,  W.  H 63 

Character —  its  Growth  and  Victories  .    .   11-57. 143-155, 

156,  109,  309-313,  2tt 


238  INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 

PAGE 

Cheerfulness 158,  184 

Come  to  me,  Thoughts  of  Heaven 115* 

Common  Duties 29 

Communion  with  God 12,  14,  17,  26,41,45-50 

Contentment 23,  33,  38,  t  168,  210 

Death  of  Children 73,  77,  101-107,  T34 

Death's  Ministry 61-78,  210,  212 

Death-sorrow  Transmuted  into  Peace 73,  97 

Disease,  as  a  Sign  of  the  Coming  of  Keener  Life   .    .      62 

Eternal  Goodness    .    .    .   77,78,86,89,110-112,143-152, 

157,  190-194,  216-229 

Eternal  Life 81-89 

Experience 46-48 

Footsteps  of  Angels 136 

From  Andrew  Rykman's  Prayer 162 

"      A  Vision  of  Poets 217 

"      Commemoration  Ode 81 

"      Divided 129 

"      Love  and  Law 223 

"  t  Ode  on  Intimations  of  Immortality    .    .     .    .  116 

"       Only  a  Curl 104 

"      Saul 227 

"       Terminus 213 

<"      The  Choir  Invisible 55 

"      The  Eternal  Goodness no 

"      The  Flood  of  Years in 

"      The  Grave  by  the  Lake .'    ...  150 

"      The  Meeting 189 

"  The  Monitions  of  the  Unseen     .     .     .     .      137,158 

"      The  Over  Soul 196 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS.  239 

PAGE 

From  The  Sermon  in  the  Hospital 50 

"      The  Two  Voices 186 

"      t  Thy  Will  be  Done 158 

God  Lends  not,  but  Gives 104 

God's  Angels  and  Teachers 12-15,211 

God  Transcendent  .     .     .     .89,  194-196,  217,  225,  227,  228 

t  "  Good-Night !  not  Good-By  " 69 

Green  Pastures  and  Still  Waters 97 

Happiness  and  Blessedness 32 

Hard  Conditions 17,  167 

He  and  She 131 

Heaven 33,  169 

He  Leadeth  Me 206 

t  How  Beautiful  it  is  to  be  Alive  ! 211 

Immortality 81-119,143-148 

In  Sickness 36,  173 

In  Sleep 71 

Jesus  .     .15,  21,  31,  40-45,  48-54,  84-87,  125,  126,  139,  220 
Job 18 

Life's  Victories n~57 

Lifted  Over 102 

Longing 88 

Love  of  God  and  Man 48 

Love  that  Surrenders 72 

Melodies  on  Darkened  Ways 20,  73 

Morality 188 

My  Dead 98 


24O  INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 

PAGE 

My  Mother's  Hymn 214 

*My  Psalm 212 

My  soul  is  full  of  whispered  song 68 

Needed  Blessings .     .     172 

No  seas  again  shall  sever 112 

Oh,  for  the  peace  that  floweth  as  a  river 114 

On  his  Blindness 34 

Our  God  a  Consuming  Fire 148 

Palm  Sunday 42 

Paul 24 

Peace 33-37,113-115,156,229 

Prayer     ....      40-50,  178,  190,  204,  206,  220-224,  228 
Psalm  XXIII 219 

Reunion  of  Friends  .     .     .88,98,100,101,109-112,119,151 

Riper  Judgments     .     .  , n,  21 

*Rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep 91 

*Sadness  and  Gladness 102 

Service 17,20,37,49-56,74,75,78,209,229 

Sometime,  Somewhere 222 

Song  of  the  Silent  Land 68 

Sorrow  and  Hope 197 

Spikenard 16 

Suffering  and  Trust 213 

Sympathy 55,  78 

The  Alpine  Sheep 106 

The  Angel  of  Death 63-68 

The  Battle  of  God 30 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS.  24! 

PAGE 

The  Beggar 169 

The  Blessed  Life 179 

The  Changeling 134 

The  Deserted  House 96 

The  Dying  Scotch  Woman 92 

The  Family  on  Earth  and  in  Heaven     ....       123-140 

The  Father's  Will 18,  42.  155-164,  212 

The  Gathering  Place 109 

*The  Hills  of  the  Lord 210 

The  Ministry  of  Suffering "-57.  209-211 

The  Perfect  Trust   ....     91,  92,  93,  101-112,  117,  119, 
143-152,  158-164,  173,  183-229 

The  Sainted  Dead 117,118 

The  Silent  Hours 130 

The  Spiritual  Body 112 

The  Thought  of  God 226 

Unseen  Realities 61,  88,  89 

Wait  on  the  Lord 220 

Wiegenlied 205 


LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  988  594     8 


